


Hostage

by bubblesbromleigh



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Daryl Whump, Humiliation, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Imprisonment, Restraints, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-07-23 19:36:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 38,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7477104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubblesbromleigh/pseuds/bubblesbromleigh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the confrontation with the Saviours the battered group of survivors head for the relative safety of Hilltop. Unfortunately Negan has other plans and decides he needs some form of insurance against any retaliation from Rick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Some of the ideas for this story come from the few spoilers floating around for season 7, as well as various rumours I have seen. Who dies at Negans hand isn't necessarily what I believe will happen (it was last week but now I'm not so sure, next week it'll probably be something different - October just hurry up and get here to put us all out of the misery of not knowing)  
> This story covers Negan's attempts to break Daryl, to damage him so much he's no use to Rick as a right hand man and to prove he has control over Alexandria and it's people. There is no slash but there is an incident of threat of rape in one chapter. It's mostly mental torture but there is the sort of violence you can expect from the show.  
> I've not read the comics but have seen various bits online, the Sanctuary is based on the comic book version as is the points system used to earn food etc. I've based Negan on what we've seen on TV so far, so the language is toned down.  
> The first chapter is just setting up the rest of the story, so is a little short and not the most exciting thing. Please bare with me - it will get better.  
> Let me know what you think and please comment, even if it's just to tell me I'm doing it all wrong.  
> Thanks for reading.
> 
> Possible spoilers for season 7 - who knows!!

Chapter 1

 

Aaron had been allowed to take the now unconscious Maggie and carry her into the RV, where he gently lay her on one of the narrow cots. He’d been grateful she’d passed out and been spared the sight of her husband’s battered body laying in a spreading pool of blood. It had been bad enough she’d witnessed the first brutal blows and he knew the sound of her pitiful, heartbreaking screams would never leave him. Blinking back the tears he gazed down at her, her hands folded over her stomach, instinctively protecting her unborn child.

 

He moved to one side as Eugene and Rosita struggled with a semi conscious Daryl, weak with blood loss but still trying to convince them he was fine. Finally they managed to settle him on the other cot, giving a sigh of relief as he lay back, drifting off into a disturbed, pain filled sleep. At once Rosita pulled at his blood soaked shirt, doing what she could for the gunshot wound on his shoulder.

 

Silently Eugene headed for the cab, climbing numbly behind the wheel and starting the engine. He glanced behind him, making sure everybody was on board. 

 

Carl and Sasha sat apart from everyone, silent sobs shaking the woman’s slender shoulders as she hunched over, grieving for the man who’d only just asked her if she wanted to settle down, to consider starting a family with him.

 

Carl was dry eyed, his frustrated anger obvious in the way he held his body, tense and still, fists clenched at his sides.

 

Michonne was at Rick’s side, the leader still and silent as he stared out of the open door, unable to take his eyes off the two bodies they’d been forced to leave behind. Several Saviours approached the corpses and he was sickened to hear laughter as one kicked at the battered remains of the young man he’d been through so much with. Blind fury swept through him as a second stood over the other motionless form, hawking up a mouthful of phlegm and spitting it onto the dead man’s jacket.

 

“Wonder what was going through his head when he did that” the man mused “I mean what made the asshole think it was a good move to jump up like that. Weren’t like he was gonna save the other one” he turned away dismissively, already losing interest.

 

“Seems like a dick move to me”

 

Rick rose to his feet, Michonne reaching to stop him at the same time.

 

“No!” she hissed “Not now. We have to get Maggie and Daryl to Dr Carson at Hilltop. They’re the only priority now”

 

As Rick reluctantly sat again a large figure filled the doorway, the still bloodstained bat resting over his shoulder. His eyes were amused as he took in the scene in front of him.

 

“You weren’t thinking of trying anything now where you?” he asked “only I can tell you that would not be a smart move. That would most certainly get more of your people killed and I really don’t want to do that” He paused, waiting for an answer, clearly annoyed when he was met with silence.

 

“I asked a question, it’s not too much to expect a reply is it?” he drawled “after all it’s just good manners” He swung the bat from his shoulder, pointing it straight at Rick’s face.

 

“Let’s try this again. You weren’t thinking of trying anything were you?” He pushed the bat closer to Rick, grinning when he saw the man flinch at the blood and unidentifiable objects still clinging to the barbed wire.

 

“Best answer quick, Lucille don’t like to be kept waiting” 

 

Swallowing back his frustration and anger, Rick raised his eyes, his gaze meeting that of the man towering above him.

 

“No Negan” he ground out “We weren’t thinking of trying anything”

 

Negan smiled, lowering Lucille and turning towards the RV door.

 

“Good, that’s what I like to hear, total submission” he paused on the top step, “Get your asses out of here now. I’ll be seeing you again in seven days to collect what you owe me” With that he strode away, slamming the door behind him.

 

Eugene pulled out of the clearing, steering the cumbersome vehicle through the trees until he found the paved road again. At once he accelerated, wanting to get the injured to Hilltop as soon as possible.

 

They had barely gone five miles when the first motorbikes roared past them. Eugene slowed as the bikes swerved across the road, blocking it. The riders dismounted, standing alongside their bikes with rifles raised. In the mirror Eugene saw several more bikes and a car pull up behind them.

 

With no other choice he stopped, turning the key in the ignition with shaking hands.

 

“Everybody out of the RV” A voice demanded “Now, before we decide to open fire”

 

Slowly, reluctantly the group made their way out of the vehicle.

 

“On your knees, you know the drill” the Saviour ordered, smirking as the small group of survivors obeyed.

 

Negan strolled towards them, a reflective look on his face as he studied each person closely.

 

“Where’s the rest of them?” he demanded “should be two more”

 

“They’re still in the RV, they’re both unconscious, we need to get help for them. Please let us go” Rick was prepared to plead this time, to do what it took to get his people to safety.

 

Negan nodded to two of his men.

 

“Go check it out” he ordered, before facing Rick and the others again.

 

“You know” he started “after you left I got to thinking. I decided I couldn’t trust you, there’s still too much defiance left in you. I decided I needed an insurance policy to stop you trying anything when we come to collect our dues next week” He smiled again.

 

“So one of you is going to be my guest, just until I feel there’s not going to be a problem. I just need to decide which one I’m taking”

 

“No, there’s no need. There’ll be no trouble, I give you my word” Rick tried to rise but was pushed back to his knees by a firm hand on his shoulder.

 

“Your word means nothing. I can see in your eyes you want to tear me to pieces with your bare hands and I get that. I took out two of yours and you’re pissed, it’s understandable. It also leaves me with a problem” Negan sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

 

“You’re two able bodies down now and I need you to be strong enough to get my stuff for me” He studied the kneeling figures, his gaze lingering on each woman a little longer than was necessary.

 

“You’ve some fine looking women here and that causes me another problem. I have a camp full of men and bringing attractive women into it isn’t the best idea, so I guess they’re all out” 

 

He smiled again as he stopped in front of Carl, staring down as the boy glared back up at him.

 

“Damn boy, you’re one creepy son of a bitch” he smirked “Does anything scare you?”

 

“Only the thought I might not see you die soon” Carl’s gaze was unwavering, and for a second Negan felt a brief flicker of something that might have passed for fear before he shook it off with a laugh.

 

“Hell I like you” he bellowed, grinning when he saw a desperate Rick being restrained by two Saviours as he tried to get to his son.

 

“Relax cowboy” Negan turned away from Carl “I know better than to take your boy. I know you’ll fight Heaven and Hell to get him back and that’s not what I want” 

 

There was a commotion at the door of the RV and the two men Negan had sent to check inside appeared, a limp Daryl slumped between them.

 

“I was just messing with you, I always knew who I was going to take.” He nodded to Eugene and Aaron.

 

“Couldn’t be them, like I said you need all the workers you can get, couldn’t be a woman or your boy so really just leaves Dwight’s little friend here. He’s injured so that makes him a liability and a distraction to you. We’ll take him and as a favour I’ll get my Doctor to patch him up. All being well you’ll get him back good as new in a couple of weeks” His smile was cold as his men began to drag Daryl to the car parked behind the RV.

 

“Of course, if there’s any problem you’ll be getting pieces of him back for weeks. It’s impressive how much can be removed before a body gives up and dies” Negan turned to follow his men, ignoring the protests and cries behind him as the unconscious hunter was bundled into the back seat of the car, one of the men sliding in alongside him.

 

“I suggest you get your lady friend in there to Hilltop as soon as possible then get to gathering up my stuff”

 

Negan raised his hand in a mocking farewell, as he slipped behind the wheel.

“Guess I’ll be seeing you in 7 days”


	2. chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl finds himself in a difficult situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the kudos and comments on the first chapter, I hope everyone likes the second one just as much.  
> There is a brief, flashback mention of major character deaths in this chapter.

He tried to bat the unseen hands away but his own refused to cooperate, remaining rooted to his sides as he struggled to make sense of what was going on. He could see nothing, his hearing distorted and muffled, the voices around him unclear as he tried desperately to pull himself free from the tight grip pushing at his body, holding him down. There was a foul taste in his dry mouth and a tightness around his throat restricting his breathing. He fought back the panic as the hands moved from his body and a sudden weight pinned his legs, making him unable to move. He thrashed around, trying to throw the restricting weight from him, frantically trying to free himself from whatever was restraining him. Pain surged through his shoulder and chest and he tried to cry out but found it impossible to make a sound. A different set of hands gripped his arm and he felt a sharp pin prick in his bicep. Slowly he felt a spreading numbness creep through his body and he was unable to stop himself from sinking back into unconsciousness. 

 

When he awoke for the second time Daryl forced himself to stay calm. The pain in his shoulder was now manageable, a dull throb instead of a pounding, burning agony but he found himself still unable to move. Moving his head to the side Daryl could feel rough fabric against his cheek and he guessed someone had forced a bag over his head, the tightness around his throat from some kind of strap holding it in place. A stiff, disgusting tasting rag was stuffed in his mouth and fastened tightly at the back of his head, restricting his breathing even more. He tried taking deep breaths through his nose, but the air inside the bag was hot and musty and he felt the panic building again as he began to hyperventilate. He tried to reach up to pull the bag from his head but found his hands restrained, bulky leather restraints pinning his wrists to what felt like a bed frame. When he tried to move his legs he found them held in place by straps across his thighs and calves.

 

Desperately he twisted his head, trying to push the bag from his face. He was vaguely aware of voices getting closer and flinched when he felt hands pulling at the restraint around his throat, loosening it, pulling the bag up. It was then he realised he was blindfolded as well.

 

“Just relax” a woman’s calm voice reached him, a gentle hand on his uninjured shoulder.

 

“Take some deep breaths through your nose, you’ll be fine”

 

He did as she said and felt the clean air reach his lungs, calming him instantly.

 

“Boss’s gonna be pissed” a gruff voice mumbled. “You already gave him painkillers when you was told not to”

 

The woman’s voice was scornful as she responded, her hand on his shoulder rubbing gently in a somewhat reassuring way.

 

“He couldn’t breathe, he was choking. I thought the Boss wanted him alive” 

 

“I do, I didn’t say he had to be comfortable though did I?” 

 

At the sound of the third voice Daryl’s blood ran cold. The memories of the dark clearing flooded back, being surrounded by the only people he’d ever cared about in his life, helpless as the owner of that voice, Negan, taunted them with who he was going to kill. He heard again the sickening crunch of bone and Maggie’s desperate screams as she saw her husband brutally murdered in front of her before passing out. He heard Abraham’s bellow of rage as he lurched to his feet, throwing himself at the baseball bat wielding madman. He saw the blade flash as the knife plunged into the big soldier’s stomach time and again as he still tried to reach Glenn’s murderer. He remembered trying to rise and Rosita pulling him back, telling him they couldn’t lose him as well. The last thing he recalled was being helped into the RV and laying back on the narrow cot before waking in a strange place, restrained, helpless once again.

 

“Doctor, a word please” 

 

Negan asked and the hand gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze before letting go. At once the bag was roughly yanked back down and the strap tightened around his throat, the sound of arguing voices muffled by the thick fabric.

 

He lay quietly, mind churning as he tried to figure out how he had ended up back in Negan’s clutches, jumping when his injured shoulder was prodded with something hard. The yelp of pain was muffled by the gag as pressure was applied to the gunshot wound and he realised with horror it was the tip of the baseball bat used to kill Glenn, the barbed wire that covered it digging into both the wound and the flesh around it.

 

He thought he heard laughter then the pressure was removed and replaced with a warm, damp cloth, wiping gently, soothing as the blood and dirt were cleaned away. He jumped again at a sharp stabbing pain near the wound but he’d been stitched up enough in the past to know what was happening and lay still, biting down on the rag when the pain got too bad. Once the stitches were finished gauze was laid over the wound and taped in place. The restraints on his wrist were unfastened and brutal hands pulled him roughly forward, holding him in place as the doctor repeated the procedure with the exit wound on his back. As soon as she’d finished working on him he was shoved back down, the strap fastened once again and he was left alone. 

 

He lost all track of time as he lay quietly, trying to occupy his mind with thoughts of what he would do to Negan as soon as he was free but being deprived of his senses was disorienting and unnerving. He was a man who had spent his life relying on his senses to survive, even before the world ended. His exceptional sight and hearing had been part of what had made him such a great hunter and tracker, part of what had kept him alive on those days when his father was on a drunken rampage, seeking him out to use as a punch bag or worse. He guessed it was all part of whatever Negan’s plan for him was and was determined it wasn’t going to break him but the longer he was left blind and almost deaf, unable to move or even draw a clean breath the harder it became to stay calm. Whatever pain medication he’d been given had worn off and his shoulder was aflame once more. He began to squirm, twisting on the bed, trying to pull his wrists from the straps holding him in place but to no avail. His breathing came in short gasps as he fought to find fresh air and he felt himself becoming more and more lightheaded as his struggles caused him to use what little oxygen there was seeping through the fabric of the bag covering his head. His movements caused the strap around his throat to tighten restricting his airflow even more.

 

He was on the edge of losing consciousness again when the tightness around his throat was loosened and the bag pulled from his head.

 

“Keep still and don’t try to talk” 

 

The woman he guessed was the doctor whispered as she pulled the rag from his mouth. As he gulped in fresh air she tucked a hand behind his head, lifting it slightly and he felt a glass pressed against his lips.

 

“It’s just water, drink” she ordered when he tried to pull away.

 

“I know you have no reason to trust me but I’m here to help. Negan wants you alive to return to your friends but he wants to break you to teach them a lesson. He’s ordered you don’t have food, water or pain meds until he says so. He wants to make an example of you, something about some of his men and a rocket launcher” the glass was pressed to his lips again and this time he drank deeply.

 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner but I had to make sure no one saw me, otherwise we’ll both suffer for it” The glass was removed and he heard the rustle of paper, the smell of cooked meat making his stomach rumble.

 

“Eat” she instructed and he reluctantly allowed her to feed him the lumps of meat she’d sneaked in as she apologised for not bringing more.

 

“I can’t remove the blindfold and I’ll have to put the gag and bag back, I’m sorry” she told him and he heard genuine remorse in her voice.

 

“He can’t know I’ve been here.” Daryl heard her walk away, returning a few seconds later

 

“I’m going to give you another injection, it will numb the pain and help you sleep. You need to keep your strength up to get through this” he felt the pin prick in his arm and as he drifted off he felt her hand brush his cheek.

 

“Stay strong” she whispered “Take whatever he throws at you and you will get back to your people. He promised them he’d return you alive and he has a twisted, screwed up code of honour. He will keep that promise but he’ll try to destroy you first. Don’t try to fight him it will only make it worse. I’ll do what I can to help”

As the drugs in his system took over and he slipped back into unconsciousness he tried to thank her but she was already retying the gag and the words were lost.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Negan visits Daryl in the infirmary and Daryl finds himself in a precarious situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for all the comments and Kudos so far, I'm really overwhelmed by the response this story is getting compared to my other work and hope everyone continues to enjoy it.
> 
> This chapter contains a scene of attempted sexual assault, nothing graphic just wanted to mention it. This came about after a discussion with lizziekat15 about how rape/assault and the threat of it can be used a both a show of power over someone or a means of controlling them, even if there is no intention of actually carrying out this horrendous act. It's all part of Negan's masterplan to break Daryl. Check out lizziekat15's story 'when two worlds collide' as well over on fan fiction, it's well worth a read.  
> I will be posting chapter 1 of my first attempt at a non Walking Dead piece today as well. It's a Boondock Saints story, called Vengeance is mine, please check it out and let me know what you think, I'm pretty nervous about this one so would love some feedback.  
> Thanks for reading.

Chapter 3  
For five days he was kept tied to the bed, blindfolded and gagged, the bag over his head. His only human contact was when the bag was untied and shoved part ways up his face, dirty fingers pulling the gag aside and forcing a straw into his mouth as he was allowed a few gulps of tepid water. He was then untied, dragged to his feet, his hands bound in front of him as he was shoved into what he assumed was a bathroom where he was allowed to relieve himself, a major task in itself with bound hands and unable to see. The whole thing was done in silence, those escorting him not uttering a word. He didn’t fight back, knowing that at this time it would be a losing battle.  
He spent the long, lonely hours trying to keep his mind occupied. In his head he rebuilt the motorcycle Aaron had given him, imagining each and every part and fitting them into place. He found himself wondering if the Saviours had found where he’d hidden the bike on the fateful day he began his search for Dwight. The thought of the man with the now burnt face sent his thoughts in a direction he’d been trying to avoid. He saw Denise, in mid sentence as the bolt from his bow pierced her eye, felt again the life leave her as he caught her before she hit the ground, remembered the pain he felt as he laid her body gently on the railway tracks before rising to face Dwight and the rest of the grinning Saviours.  
He forced himself to think of happier times, saddened to realise happiness was something he’d never had much of in his life. He thought back to the day he brought down his first deer, 14 years old and basking in Merle’s praise as together they took the carcass back to the shitty trailer they shared with their abusive father. He shut down the memory of his father, high on whatever drug he’d managed to get hold of, as he used his belt on him the second Merle left, screaming at him for getting blood on the decaying porch steps, before forcing him to gut the animal and dress the meat. He never even got a taste of his first big kill, most of the meat was traded away for drugs and alcohol and once again he’d gone to bed hungry and in pain.  
His mind wandered and drifted as he lost all track of time, not knowing if it was day or night, not knowing how long he’d been held there and unable to stop himself wondering what had happened to Rick and the others, hoping Maggie and her unborn child were okay, praying that Rick and Carl had got back to Judith and that someone was helping Sasha get over Abraham’s death before she lost herself again.  
Each night the doctor came to him, feeding him whatever she’d managed to sneak away and giving him the injection that eased the pain and allowed him to sleep. He found himself relying on her visits to get him through the days, the sound of her voice the only positive thing in his life at this moment. For someone who had never depended on anyone in his entire life he found himself desperate for her short visits and few words of comfort.  
On the fourth day Negan returned, ordering the bag to be removed as he stood over him, taunting him, telling him how much his beloved bat, Lucille had enjoyed caving his friends head in and how the man’s blood still stained the wood, bits of his flesh still caught in the barbs. He had then drawn the tip of the bat down Daryl’s face and across his gagged mouth, hard enough for the barbs to draw blood from his lips, laughing as he’d asked if Daryl could taste Glenn’s blood , making some sick, racist joke about Chinese food. All Daryl wanted to do was scream “He’s Korean, you prick!” as he tore Negan apart with his bare hands.  
On the fifth day Negan pulled the gag from his mouth, asking him why he’d spared Dwight and the two women in the forest, not killing them as soon as he’d had the chance. When he didn’t get a reply he dragged Lucille down Daryl’s bare chest, his shirt gone so the doctor could treat his shoulder and never replaced. The barbs left deep gouges, blood welling up and trickling down his sides to pool on the bed beneath him.  
“Well?” Negan demanded, bringing Lucille up to Daryl’s collar bone again, cruelly digging it in once more.  
“I screwed up, should have killed them” Daryl’s voice was hoarse with lack of use and water, his lips dry and split from the rag constantly forced between them.  
“I thought maybe they was good people”  
“Oh how you messed up!” Negan laughed “So many people dead because you didn’t kill those three” Daryl heard him move away from the bed, pacing around the room.  
“Let’s see, how many was it again? Negan was at his side once more.  
“There’s the blonde that got the arrow in the eye, an arrow from the weapon you let Dwight take from you - that’s gotta hurt” Lucille was resting on his chest again, the barbed wire digging in as Negan leant forward, leaning his weight on the bat.  
“Then there’s the little father to be, shame he won’t get to see his kid. As for the big guy, brave man but dumb as an ox to try and jump me like that. I mean what was he thinking?” Negan moved away again.  
“I get why Rick and the others were out, taking pretty little future mama to get help but why were you and the other three running around the forest?” he asked.  
Daryl hesitated before replying, swallowing back the guilt he felt.  
“I was looking for that asshole Dwight, wanted payback on him for killing Denise. The others followed me to bring me back”  
He flinched as he remembered Glenn trying to talk him into returning to Alexandria with them, trying to convince him to come home.  
“So it’s because of you they were outside the walls? Down to you they were captured?” He heard the amusement in Negan’s voice, heard him move closer, felt his warm breath on the side of his face as the man leant over him.  
“It’s your fault our Asian friend died”  
The whisper was like a knife to the gut, the words voicing what he’d been tormenting himself with ever since he woke up. Glenn was dead and it was because of him and his stupid vendetta and need for revenge.  
He felt Negan step back, felt the prick of the barbed wire as Lucille was pushed under his chin, forcing his head back.  
“No wonder they didn’t put up a fight when we took you. I imagine they were glad to see you go, I bet they saw you as nothing but a liability that just kept getting people killed” Negan grinned as he saw his words hit home, filing the information away for future use.  
As the bat was removed Daryl heard a door open and several sets of footsteps enter the room.  
“Get him cleaned up and in more suitable attire, something more fitting for his position here. He needs to start paying for his keep” Negan ordered.  
Daryl tensed as unseen hands pulled the straps from his legs, others freeing his wrists, yet more ripping the blindfold from his face. After being in darkness for so long the sudden light was blinding and he screwed his eyes shut, trying to bring his hands up to cover his face but he was being pulled to his feet, his arms forced behind him as he was hurled upright.  
“Wait!” The doctor’s demand was a welcome sound and the men gripping him let go.  
“Let me check his injuries before you take him, Negan won’t be happy if he gets an infection and gets too sick to work”  
Squinting, still adjusting to the light he saw the men surrounding him exchange glances, before shrugging and moving away.  
“Sit!”  
The demand was abrupt and he obeyed, sitting back on the edge of the bed as she swabbed at the gashes on his chest, cleaning them and applying an antiseptic salve to the deepest. He found he trusted her enough not to shrink back as she silently worked on his injuries, her hands moving over his exposed chest efficiently.  
He studied her as she worked, actually seeing her for the first time. He realised he still didn’t know her name, the one time he’d asked she’d refused to tell him, saying if he slipped up and mentioned it then Negan would work out she’d been visiting and talking to him. She was a short woman, not much over five foot, somewhere in her late fifties, maybe early sixties with close cropped grey hair and tired hazel eyes, which she kept lowered as she worked on him. Her touch was brisk but gentle as she pulled the gauze from his shoulder, checking the gunshot wound before rewrapping it.  
“It’s healing well, just try not to put any strain on it, you don’t want to rip the stitches out” She was emotionless as she gathered her equipment, but finally she glanced up meeting his eyes.  
“Be strong” she mouthed before turning away.  
“He’s all yours” she nodded to the men and they closed in on him once more.  
He was manhandled down a corridor and shoved through a door into a small bathroom, where one of the men reached into a shower cubicle and turned the water on.  
“Strip and get your stinking ass cleaned up” one of them demanded. When Daryl hesitated a second man moved closer, a sick grin on his face.  
“Boss wants you cleaned up, you do it yourself or we’ll do it for you” he sneered as he reached out for Daryl’s belt. At once Daryl recoiled, moving away in the confined space until his back hit the wall and he had nowhere left to go. The three men advanced, grinning as they closed in.  
“Get him cleaned up he could be kinda pretty” one on them commented, his eyes raking over Daryl’s body.  
“Yeah maybe, but he’s still some dirty backwoods hick, aint got any idea where he’s been. You wanna take a chance? Don’t know what you might catch” another replied.  
The first shrugged.  
“Hell, it’s probably worth the risk. We aint allowed to touch any of the women here, gotta get some where you can”  
He suddenly lunged forward, moving fast and pinning Daryl to the wall with his body. Daryl reacted instinctively, bringing his knee up, driving it into the greasy man’s stomach, swinging a punch as the man doubled over. Instantly the other two were on him, throwing punches and kicks, overpowering the injured hunter as he fought desperately. He found himself spun round and slammed face first into the wall as the man he’d hit approached once more.  
The man pressed himself against Daryl’s back, his hands sliding running up the hunter’s sides, then back down, his dirty fingers roughly digging into his hips. Frantically Daryl threw his head back, making contact with the man’s nose with a satisfying crunch. As he fell back with a cry of pain one of the others grabbed a handful of Daryl’s hair, yanking his head back before slamming it into the tiled wall, hard enough for his vision to go black for a few seconds.  
“Hold him still” the demand was harsh and Daryl felt his arms forced behind his back as the two grinning men pinned him against the wall, giving him no room to move.  
“You are so gonna pay for that” Hands snaked around his waist, reaching for his belt buckle and working it undone.  
“I was gonna go easy on you” he whispered, his foul breath ghosting Daryl’s ear as he finished with the belt and moved to the button on Daryl’s pants, popping it open.  
“Now I aint gonna hold back” he pushed himself closer to the struggling man, his hand now pulling at the zipper.  
“That’s right” He laughed as Daryl twisted in the other men’s grip, trying to break free, running on nothing but pure fear and panic.  
“You keep fighting, makes things more interesting” The zipper was down, the man’s fingers hooked into his waistband. Before he could get any further the door was flung open.  
“What the hell?”  
The incredulous voice was familiar and as the hold on him fell away Daryl found himself staring at Dwight, framed in the doorway, a bundle of clothes in his hands.  
“You was only meant to get him cleaned up. You think Negan’s gonna be happy when he hears about this?”  
The three men began to talk at once but Dwight cut them off.  
“I’ll take over here, just get the hell out, wait in the corridor”  
Once the men were gone he turned to Daryl, deciding to ignore the hostile glare he was getting.  
“Looks like I arrived just in time” he commented, not surprised when he was met with a sullen silence.  
“Get washed up and put these on, Negan’s expecting you and it doesn’t pay to keep him waiting” As Dwight moved to put the clothes on the counter he turned slightly and Daryl caught a glimpse of his back.  
“Son of a bitch!, that’s my vest!” the hunter exclaimed, lunging forward, making a grab at the smaller man. Dwight evaded him easily, grasping his injured shoulder and slamming him back against the wall.  
“It’s mine now, these are yours” Dwight indicted the bundle he’d bought in with him. Daryl made an attempt to free himself but Dwight’s hold was firm as he leant in closer.  
“You need to start co-operating if you want to get back to your people. Clean up, put the clothes on and play along with Negan. It’s your only chance of getting out of here in one piece. I thought shooting you would keep you safe but I underestimated just how crazy that asshole is”  
Daryl stared at him for a long second trying to work out if the man was sincere. His advice was similar to the Doctors and Daryl realised he had no choice but to go along with it for the moment.  
Reluctantly he gave a small nod and Dwight released him.  
Daryl reached for the clothes and went to pull on the shapeless shirt but Dwight stopped him.  
“You gotta shower first” he instructed, smirking at the cold glare he received.  
“Don’t worry, I’m not like those assholes, I got no interest in seeing your junk. I can’t leave you in here alone but I won’t peek” He turned his back, studiously peering at the wall in front of him.  
“Just remember those dicks are waiting right outside the door before you get any ideas” he cautioned.  
He didn’t expect a reply and wasn’t disappointed. Dwight waited patiently, hearing the rustle of clothes dropping to the floor and the splashes of someone taking the fastest shower ever.  
Daryl stepped from the cubicle, glancing around the room, one eye on Dwight the whole time. There was no towel so he pulled the dirty clothes over his still wet body, the rough fabric scratching at his skin. He scowled as he saw just how disgusting the clothes were, the fabric stiff with dirt and decided it was better he didn’t know what some of the stains on the front of the shirt were. He realised being forced to shower before donning them was just another way of Negan controlling him, of showing him just how helpless he was at that moment. The shapeless sweatpants were huge, hanging low over his hips and he pulled the drawstring as tight as he could before pulling on the baggy long sleeved shirt, tugging at the restricting neckline, already uncomfortable in the unfamiliar clothes. He felt vulnerable and lost without his trademark vest and crossbow, his identity stripped away and there was nothing he could do about it.  
He reached for his boots, still tangled in his discarded pants but before he could pull them on Dwight was kicking them away from his hands.  
“What, you want my boots as well now?” Daryl sneered angrily, seriously considering jumping Dwight just for the Hell of it.  
“Might as well, you got everything else I own” he snarled, fists clenching as he fought the urge to pound the smirking man’s face to a pulp.  
“Just following orders” Dwight shrugged as he reached into his back pocket, pulling out a set of handcuffs.  
“Put your hands in front of you!” He instructed, frowning when Daryl didn’t move.  
“Look I gotta take you to Negan in cuffs, so it’s gonna happen. Let me do it or ….” he nodded to the door “...I’ll have to get our friends out there back in and they won’t play nice”  
He sighed when Daryl still didn’t make a move.  
“Don’t want to hurt you but you aint giving me a choice” he reached for the door handle, hand hovering over it for a moment, giving Daryl one last chance to cooperate. Finally he pulled the door open, speaking quickly to the three men waiting outside. As he stepped to one side the men barged into the small bathroom, grins on their faces as they advanced on the cornered hunter.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the kudos and comments so far on this story, I really appreciate people taking the time to let me know what they think.  
> I'm so sorry for how long it has taken to post this chapter, it was almost finished then I had internet connection problems for a while and lost what I had written on Google Docs Thinking I was being clever I made a back up copy using Microsoft office and continued to write it on there, then my lovely computer did one of those unexpected, unwanted restarts and lost it again so this is now the third attempt. It's a bit of a filler chapter, with more detail about the Saviours and Sanctuary and how they work. Most of the description is based on the graphic novel version (taken from websites as I've not read them) and I've used names from the comic for the Saviours, although I don't think I'm using them in the same roles. There will also be a few thing inspired by the season 7 trailer, so I suppose I should say possible spoilers ahead.  
> The next chapter is almost finished so hopefully will be posted very soon.  
> Thanks for reading and hope you like it.

Chapter 4

 

Negan studied the man in standing in front of him. He was battered and bloody, clearly in pain but he stood tall and straight, head held high as he stared right back, defiance in his eyes, despite one being swollen almost shut. 

 

He pushed the half dressed woman from his lap, telling her to return to her quarters and she left quickly, pulling her short robe closed around her near naked body and shooting Daryl a sympathetic glance as she passed him. 

 

Daryl ignored the woman, keeping his attention on Negan as the man rose from behind his large desk and swaggered towards him. He moved with the arrogance of someone who believed he was in complete control of the situation and Daryl had to admit to himself that right now he was. He saw Negan looking him up and down, appearing satisfied at his appearance.

 

“Well now, look at you” Negan sneered as he circled him, taking in the bare feet and cuffed hands, the filthy ill fitting clothes. 

 

“Looks like you’re ready to start earning your keep” He stopped behind Daryl, noting his captives shoulders tense as he approached him from behind, stopping a few feet away. He reached out, grabbing a handful of Daryl’s hair, forcing his head back as he leant in closer, satisfied at the shudder than ran through the man’s body at the close contact.

 

“You get nothing for free here, as long as you’re my guest you earn your keep. You get points for working and trade those points for food and lodgings. At the moment you owe me a shit load for your care over the last five days” He released his grip and shoved Daryl forward, throwing him off balance, causing him to stumble against the heavy desk.

 

“You owe me for the water you got, use of the bathroom and shower, the clothes on your back and the bandages on your shoulder” He stopped, rubbing at the stubble on his jaw reflectively.

 

“The food and pain meds the Doctor gave you will be charged at double rate being as you weren’t meant to be getting them. Going to charge that damn woman as well, just to make a point ” He grinned at the shocked expression Daryl tried and failed to hide.

 

“You think I didn’t know about her midnight visits? She might be a good doctor but she sucks at being discreet. I still haven’t decided what I’m going to do to her for disobeying my orders. I want to take my time and think of something special”

 

Daryl opened his mouth to defend the doctor, to try and take full responsibility for any punishment when Negan’s fist hit him hard on the jaw.

 

“From now on you don’t talk unless I say so” Negan was in his face, his hand gripping his chin and forcing his head up.

 

“You understand what I say?”

 

Daryl glared at him, swallowing back a harsh retort, instead lowering his eyes before mumbling a quiet, defeated reply.

 

“Yeah, I understand”

 

The punch to the ribs caught him by surprise and he doubled over, wheezing, fighting the urge to throw up.

 

“Did I say you could talk?” Negan yanked his head back again, grinning down at him “A nod would have done. Now try again, do you understand?”

 

Angry and humiliated Daryl managed a brief nod, as Negan shoved him away, the laughter of the other men loud in the small room.

 

Negan swept Lucille up from her place on his desk, casually swinging her over his shoulder as he opened the door.

 

“Bring him” he ordered as he strode away.

 

After being shoved down several long corridors and down two flights of stairs Daryl was pushed through a door, suddenly finding himself outside. After days of being locked up inside the bright sun felt good and he lifted his face, enjoying it’s warmth on his skin. A hard shove in his back sent him stumbling forward, almost falling.

 

“Keep moving” A rough voice demanded, a hand gripping his arm and forcing him to walk. He glanced around, trying to take note of everything. He was in a large open area full of cars, trucks and motorcycles. Several people were unloading a truck, bringing out box after box of food and weapons. As Negan approached they all stopped what they were doing and dropped to one knee, their heads bowed in respect. Daryl noticed several men wearing clothes similar to his, all had letters painted onto their torsos and all looked broken and exhausted. Most were bruised and battered, and several flinched as Negan strode past them. 

 

“See all that?” Negan waved Lucille in the general direction of the workers “That’s the first collection from Alexandria. I went a couple of days earlier than I said, just to see if I could catch them out. I wanted to make sure they weren’t planning anything but it looks like your pals came through with a good haul for us” he smiled, giving Daryl a sly look.

 

“You know, not one of them asked after you, it was like they just didn’t care” he grinned again, not missing the brief, broken look that crossed his prisoner’s face before he composed himself again.

 

“We need to get you working but first you gotta be labelled” Negan nodded to the men behind Daryl and before he could move a hard kick to the back of his knee made his leg buckle and he fell forward, barely getting his cuffed hands in front of him to stop himself landing face first in the dirt. He tried to regain his feet but Negan pushed Lucille between his shoulder blades, holding him in place on his hands and knees.

 

“Anyone say you can get up?” he asked pleasantly.

 

Remembering just in time not to speak Daryl shook his head mutely, biting the inside of his cheek in an attempt to hold back the anger and frustration welling up in him. He heard sniggers from several of the men in the yard and knew they were enjoying his humiliation.

 

A tall, balding man with an impressive moustache sauntered over, a spray can in his hand.

 

“This is Connor” Negan politely introduced the smirking man, as he shook the aerosol can vigorously.

 

“He’s my second in command around here” Negan stared down at the man kneeling in front of him. 

 

“When I’m not around, what he says goes, you get that?” 

 

Without lifting his head Daryl nodded again, knowing the only way he was going to survive was to play along with Negan. If being submissive and obedient was what it took to get him back to his family he would do it. He would take whatever The Saviours threw at him and bide his time. At the first opportunity he would be out of there and he would do his best to make sure he destroyed Negan on the way out.

 

As Daryl reluctantly stayed still Connor stepped over him, placing a foot either side of his thighs.

 

“Don’t move” the man sneered as he ran his hand over Daryl’s back, smoothing the fabric of his shirt flat before painting a large upper case A onto it. He stepped back and his foot lashed out, catching Daryl in the ribs and knocking him onto his side in the dirt. At once hands reached out grabbing the cuffs and yanking his hands above his head as he was pulled onto his back and held in place. Connor stood over him, shaking the can once more before leaning down and spraying a second A onto his chest.

 

“You can kid yourself it’s A for Alexandria but we all know it’s actually for Asshole don’t we?” Connor rose and threw the can to one side. Daryl noted where it landed, planning on making the arrogant prick choke on it first chance he got.

 

He was pulled to his knees and told to stay there while Negan and Connor discussed the collection from Hilltop sometime in the next few days. Glancing around, trying to be discreet he took the time to study the Saviours compound.

 

It was surprisingly large, everything clustered around a large central building. It looked to Daryl like it had once been a factory of some kind, several stories high with a metal staircase clinging to the front wall. Three huge chimneys towered over the roof, giving the place an imposing, overwhelming feel. Through the open door of one of the smaller buildings Daryl could see box after box of supplies stacked on shelves and in a second he noticed rows of weapons neatly lined up against the walls, boxes of ammo nearby. Set away from the others was a large metal barn type structure, several horses standing listlessly in a small enclosure alongside it. 

 

A high chain link fence surrounded the complex and Daryl could see dozens of walkers chained to the links, yet more impaled on wooden stakes embedded in the ground. Snapping, severed heads were scattered between the walker’s feet and yet more snarling heads were stuck on tall posts. Daryl guessed these were those who had disobeyed or displeased Negan in someway, murdered and displayed as a deterrent for others. 

 

A narrow, heavily guarded gate appeared to be the only way in or out and at regular intervals around the wall Daryl could see tall platforms, alert marksmen stationed atop them. Getting out was going to be a challenge.

 

“You think you’re going to go running back to Rick like a good little lapdog and report everything you’ve seen here?” Negan’s voice held a hint of amusement as Daryl was hurled to his feet by two men.

 

“Not happening. You’re going nowhere until you’ve paid back for what you’ve had in the last few days, then you’ll be working off what you’ve used while paying that back and so it goes on”

 

Negan grinned, “You’re gonna be here a while” He nodded to the men either side of him.

 

“Uncuff him and get him started. I’m sure you can find something suitable for him to do” 

 

With that he strode away without a backwards glance.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl is forced to earn his keep at the Sanctuary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you once again for all the Kudos and comments, I'm so excited to see people reading and enjoying this story.  
> I'm really unsure about this chapter and would love to know what you think.  
> I had already thought about the Saviours having some livestock in the Sanctuary, maybe horses for transport, cows for milk and pigs for breeding for fresh meat. Then the trailer was released and I saw the pigs standing over a body and the whole thing went a different way. There are scenes of animal cruelty which I hated writing, more so than any of the horrid stuff that happens to any of the humans.  
> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Chapter 5

 

For the rest of the day Daryl was forced to work the most menial, demeaning jobs the two men escorting him could find. 

 

They thrust a mop and bucket at him and demanded he cleaned the most disgusting restroom he’d ever seen and he’d been in many low class dive bars with Merle over the years, ones where the customers were so off their heads with alcohol and Meth they didn’t know which way up they were never mind where to aim. The floor was sticky with God only knows what beneath his bare feet and he kept his face impassive, swallowing back the bile at the foul smell emanating from the cubicles as the men nudged each other, giggling like schoolkids as he swirled the mop over the filthy tiled floor. Eventually it was finished and he turned to place the mop back into the pail of now disgusting water. Before he could do so one of the men flashed him a grin and deliberately kicked the bucket over, the grimy water sloshing all over the clean floor, swirling over Daryl’s feet and soaking into the bottom of his baggy sweatpants.

 

“That was damn clumsy” the man chortled “Now you gotta clean it up all over again and we gotta charge you for the water you just wasted. You’re gonna have to be a whole lot more careful” Gritting his teeth, determined not to let them get to him Daryl began to mop again, silently planning what he would do to the two assholes watching him when he was free again.

 

Once he had finally finished he was pushed towards the barn like building. The men pushed the door open and the overpowering stench almost made them all gag. 

 

“Damn!!” one of the men exclaimed “when was the last time this place was cleaned out?” 

 

The second shrugged. “Few months ago if I recall. That dick we took from Hilltop did it, just before he tried to take out the Boss”

 

“That's right, I remember now” the first man grinned “He certainly regretted that didn’t he?”

 

A hard shove sent Daryl towards a fenced in enclosure in one corner of the barn. As they approached he heard grunting from the other side of the barrier. The smell intensified until it was almost unbearable and as they got closer Daryl could see there were several large pigs snuffling around. They were thin and filthy, the pen filled with several weeks worth of animal waste and rotting food. Against one wall was an unidentifiable shape covered in slurry and mud. Daryl felt a moment of sympathy for the half starved creatures trapped inside, knowing how they felt. 

 

As the three men peered into the pen the pigs noticed them for the first time. At once they charged, crashing into the sturdy fence, grunting and climbing over each other in an attempt to reach the men.

 

Startled Daryl jumped back, crashing into one of his escorts.

 

“Pussy! You scared of a couple of pigs?” the man asked, exchanging a grin with his companion.

 

Suddenly both men lunged forward, seizing Daryl’s arms and shoving him against the fence. They pinned his arms behind him, forcing his wrists up towards his shoulders as they forced him to bend over the fence. He struggled as one of them pushed his head down, towards the frantic animals that snapped and struggled to reach him, their dirty snouts just inches from his face, close enough he could feel the rancid breath on his skin. With a final burst of energy he didn’t know he had he pushed back hard enough to unbalance the men sending all three of them tumbling to the floor. 

 

At once he scrambled to his feet, ready to defend himself from an attack that didn’t come. Instead the men pulled themselves up, laughing.

 

“Negan don’t want you fed to the pigs” one of them told him as he picked up a long, narrow rod and flicked a switch in the chunky handle.

 

“Least not yet anyway” he deadpanned as he nodded to the other man.

 

“Go get the hatch open, Donnie” he instructed.

 

As Donnie hurried to pull open a hatch in the outer wall of the barn leading to small enclosed area outside, he leaned carefully over the barrier and prodded the nearest pig with the pole. The pig squealed as the electric current from the cattle prod jolted through it’s scrawny body and it scurried towards the now open hatch.

 

“Hey Gary, you gonna let me have a go this time?” Donnie whined, “I wanna make the stinking pigs squeal!”

 

Gary shook his head as he jabbed the next animal, smiling broadly as it cried out in pain.

 

“You know this is my job, yours is to open and close the hatch and yours …” he grinned at Daryl as he watched in disgust the enjoyment the man was taking in hurting the already suffering animals.

 

“.... yours is to get in there and shovel out all that shit” The last pig squeezed through the hatch and Donnie slammed it shut, securing the starving animals in the outside run.

 

When Daryl didn’t move Gary faced him, raising the cattle prod.

 

“This thing is meant for cows, it’s too strong for the pigs really, that’s why it hurts them so much” he swung it round, aiming it straight at Daryl’s chest.

 

“You weigh a whole lot less than they do, wanna find out how much more painful it will be if I 

jab you with it?” 

 

Daryl stared at the man with narrowed eyes, debating whether or not he could take him on. In normal circumstances he knew he’d have no problem with both men but he was tired, hungry and dehydrated and the five days restrained on the bed had weakened him more than he liked to admit. Reluctantly he snatched up a shovel leaning against the enclosure wall and unlatched the gate into the stinking pen. The next hour was probably the most disgusting of his life as he shoveled muck into the wheelbarrow Gary had helpfully provided. He ignored Gary and Donnie’s jeers as they leant watching him wade through weeks worth of muck and slime, trying and failing not to get it on his clothes and skin. 

 

He moved to the heap against the wall and stuck the shovel into it, intent on finishing the revolting job as soon as possible. When the human hand flopped off the shovel, barely missing his foot he couldn’t help jumping back in shock.

 

“Guess you know what happened to the last asshole that tried to kill Negan now” Donnie laughed. 

 

“When a pig’s hungry enough it’ll eat anything, don’t matter whether it’s dead or alive” He indicated the decaying remains of the body with a grin. “He was alive when he went in. Screamed like a baby when they started chowing down on him” He flashed Daryl a gleeful look “Now you need to get what’s left of him cleared up.

 

Closing his eyes briefly Daryl added Donnie to the top of his list of things to sort before he made his escape.

 

It took a while for Daryl to manhandle what was left of the Hilltop man into the wheelbarrow. On the plus side the hungry pigs had devoured the skin and soft tissue, taking most of the weight from the body but what was left was rotten, slimy and falling apart. Daryl found himself grateful for the lack of food in his stomach as he finally flopped the last piece of the corpse on the top of the stinking pile. Gary unlatched the gate and he pushed the wheelbarrow out of the enclosure, following the man as he lead him out of the barn to an area behind it where he was ordered to dump it amongst the rubbish already piled there.

 

It was almost dark by the time they left the barn and Daryl noticed most people were heading towards the main building. As they made their way across the yard Negan approached them, Connor at his side. At once Donnie and Gary dropped to one knee and lowered their heads. Daryl remained standing, meeting Negan’s eye defiantly.

 

Negan eyed him back, quietly studying the filthy man in front of him.

 

“Damn you stink! He exclaimed “Bet you want to go get cleaned up now don’t you and maybe get some food in your belly?” Negan asked him pleasantly, smiling at the curt nod he received in reply. 

 

“Yeah, well, aint happening” In a sudden blur of movement Negan pulled Lucille from his shoulder and swung her round. The blow caught Daryl in the lower back, the impact knocking him down, making him hiss in pain as the barbed wire bit through the rough fabric of his shirt, biting into his flesh and ripping it open as Nagan yanked the bat back. He tried to rise but Negan swung again, this time slamming into his thigh taking his leg out from under him and he fell onto his side. Refusing to give up Daryl rolled over and scrambled to his knees, wincing at the agony in his leg and back as he pushed himself to his feet.

 

“You don’t learn do you?” Negan asked, hiding his grudging respect as Daryl managed to stand straight in front of him, the defiant look still in his eyes as he swayed on his feet.

 

“You will though” He leant closer “You’ll kneel like everyone else soon enough”

 

Weakened from lack of food and groggy from the hits he’d taken Daryl didn’t sense the movement behind him until it was too late. His arms were grabbed and yanked behind him and despite his best efforts he found his hands cuffed again as he was dragged backwards towards the main building. One of the Saviours produced a length of rope and looped it around his restrained wrists then threaded the other end through the frame of the metal stairs that snaked up the outside of the building. He pulled the rope taut, yanking Daryl back until he was flush against the metal frame then tied the rope off tightly, leaving the hunter no room to move. His still healing shoulder protested and his freshly injured back screamed in agony as it was slammed against the steps and he swallowed back the yelp of pain that threatened to escape.

 

Negan stood for a second, a satisfied expression on his face as he surveyed the restrained man.

 

“Leave him there all night, maybe it’ll teach him some respect”

 

He swung Lucille over his shoulder and grinned at Connor.

 

“Don’t know about you but I’m starving - I hear they bought some venison back from Alexandria, found it stashed in one of the freezers there. Been looking forward to a lump of that all afternoon, maybe with some of those fresh vegetables Hilltop so kindly donated” He shot a final glance at Daryl.

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll send someone out with some scraps for you later, can’t have you wasting away on us now can we?” he taunted.

 

The two men turned away no longer interested in Daryl as they sauntered off in search of their stolen meal.

Resentment filled Daryl, he knew the venison they meant, it had taken him almost a day to track, kill and field dress the large stag, over two hours of hard slog to get it back to Olivia in the pantry and then another hour with her help to cut it into manageable, freezer sized chunks. Now the Saviours were enjoying his hard work, while his family went without. He struggled and twisted trying to free himself but to no avail. Finally he gave up, allowing himself to slump back, attempting to get as comfortable as possible for what he knew was going to be a very long night.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to all who have left Kudos and comments so far on this work, I'm so pleased it seems to be going down so well.   
> This chapter features a brief flashback to child abuse and there is a possibly distressing death right at the end.  
> Thanks for reading.

Chapter 6

 

The first dousing of ice cold water hit him in the face, jolting him from the fitful, uncomfortable sleep he’d somehow managed to drift into. The second caught his chest, icy rivulets running down his body and pooling at his already frozen feet. Chilled from the long night outside in the brisk Virginian autumn air he couldn’t help the violent shivers that shook his frame as the water soaked into his clothing causing them to cling uncomfortably to his exhausted, aching body. The pain in his shoulder was pounding, the muscles in his legs cramping from being forced to stand in the same position for several hours. The fresh gouges on his back and thigh were tight and sore and those on his chest from when Negan had dragged Lucille down his body in the infirmary felt hot and itchy.

 

“Good morning” Connor was in his face “Sleep well?” 

 

Daryl knew better than to reply, settling instead for a withering glare causing Connor to laugh.

 

“Still being a defiant bastard I see” he commented, glancing over his shoulder as Negan approached, a young woman at his side. “Got a feeling that aint gonna last much longer” he chuckled.

 

“Nothing like a refreshing shower to get you going first thing in the morning” Negan quipped as he turned to the pretty blonde woman at his side.

 

“Well, what are you waiting for?” he demanded.

 

The woman lowered her eyes and took a few hesitant steps toward Daryl, her nervous fingers twisting the towel she held into knots.

 

“Lisa here is going to dry you off, don’t want you getting a chill now do we?” Negan explained happily, his grin widening as he saw the nervous look in Daryl’s eye as the woman approached him cautiously. 

 

Lisa reached out slowly, using one corner of the towel to wipe the excess water from his face and neck. Daryl tried not to react but as she moved closer and reached around him, using both hands to squeeze the excess water from his dripping hair he couldn’t help but flinch away from her touch. 

 

“I’m sorry” she whispered her mouth almost touching his ear as she leant even closer to reach around him “but I’ve got no choice” 

 

He saw her eyes flick to the side and followed her gaze. A young boy of about seven was staring at the woman with scared eyes, one of Negan’s men behind him, his large hand resting heavily on the boy’s shoulder, the threat obvious.

 

Negan watched with interest, he saw Daryl try to pull away when Lisa got too close and realised it was all contact the hunter shied away from, not just that of men. Briefly he wondered what had happened in his past to make him that afraid of human contact but then he decided he didn’t care, it was just something he could use against his prisoner. Negan was determined to break the stubborn captive. He wanted to see him kneel before him like everyone else and would do whatever it took to make it happen. It was obvious that violence wasn’t going to work, the damn man took whatever blows he was given and refused to stay down so he had to come up with something different, He’d already worked out that Daryl was quick to blame himself for things beyond his control and was full of self doubt. He had also worked out that he always put the welfare of those he cared about before his own, no matter what the cost to himself.

 

Negan smiled as he saw Daryl fight with himself to stay still as Lisa tried to dry him off. He eyed the pretty woman, still annoyed she had turned him down when he suggested she become one of his wives. His petty vengeance for the refusal was to make life as difficult as possible for her and her boy. He decided to make things more interesting. A quick word with Connor soon had one of the other women hurrying off to do his bidding.

 

He sauntered towards them, Lisa at once dropping to one knee and lowering her head at his approach, Daryl lifting his head and staring him straight in the eye.

 

Negan gave a chilling smile.

 

“So looking forward to knocking that arrogance right out of you” he commented.

 

Negan reached out, seizing a handful of Lisa’s hair, pulling her roughly to her feet again.

 

“Not much good drying him off if his clothes are still wet now is it?” he questioned as he pulled a short bladed knife from his belt handing it to the horrified woman.

 

“Remove his shirt” he demanded, as she stared at him wide eyed.

 

“Do it” he ordered, his eyes drifting toward the child. At once the man’s hand tightened on the boy’s shoulder, squeezing it roughly making the child whimper in pain.

 

With shaking hands she reached for the bottom of the filthy, wet shirt, pulling the fabric away from Daryl’s body. Lisa felt the shudder that ran through him as her hands accidentally brushed against the bare skin of his stomach as she began to hack at the material, cutting the shirt from hem to neckline, before moving to his shoulder. With his hands tightly bound behind him she had no choice but to cut through the full length of both sleeves to free the shirt from him. She kept her eyes on the knife as she worked, unable to look at him, knowing she was humiliating him but knowing she had no choice, she would do anything to keep her son, seven year old Michael, safe.

 

Daryl stared straight ahead, not making eye contact with anyone as Lisa worked on removing his shirt and drying his now exposed torso. He willed himself to keep still, hating how weak on vulnerable he was at that moment. 

 

She was gentle, carefully avoiding the open wounds, working as quickly as she could. Finally, with a sigh of relief, she stepped back, facing Negan with lowered eyes.

 

“Finished” she said meekly.

 

“Don’t think so, Honey” Negan grinned, as another woman handed him a fresh set of folded clothes.

 

With a sadistic smile let his eyes drop to Daryl’s lower half.

 

“Looks to me like you’ve only done half the job” he tossed another pair of the baggy sweat pants to the ground at her feet, raising his eyebrows expectantly as the watching Saviours began to jeer and make crude comments.

 

“Get on with it” Negan was getting impatient “You don’t want your boy to suffer because you couldn’t do a simple task do you?” 

 

Lisa’s frantic eyes shot to her son, seeing the man’s hand digging into his shoulder hard enough to bruise. 

 

“Please don’t hurt him” she begged desperately as Negan watched impassively, tapping Lucille gently against his leg.

 

“Do it”

 

Lisa’s head snapped round at the quiet voice next to her. Daryl was staring at the ground as he spoke again.

 

“Do what you gotta to keep your boy safe”

 

Slowly she moved towards him, her hands reaching for the drawstring on the pants. The Saviours watching began to laugh and catcall, the comments and suggestions becoming more and more explicit.

 

Daryl raised his head as she pulled at the tight knot of the drawstring, his expression blank as she finally loosened it. 

 

Her eyes meet his as she moved to the waistband and she felt the tremble that ran through him as he tried to hold himself together. A sudden memory of his father slammed unbidden into his mind. He was just 10 years old and had just returned home from one of the rare days he’d attended school, trying to slip unnoticed into the shitty house, praying his father wouldn’t see him before he’d had a chance to clean up. He almost made it to the tiny bathroom when a rough hand on his shoulder had stopped him, yanking back so hard he almost fell. His father had spun him round and slammed him back against the nearest wall as he studied the shaking boy in front of him.

 

“Just had a call from a friend of mine” he slurred “Seems like you got yourself into another scrap” He squinted down at his son, taking in the fresh black eye and split lip, noting the way he favoured one arm and how the other cradled his ribs.

 

“Says you got yer ass handed to you” he snarled.

 

Daryl had tried to explain that there’d been two of them, that they’d both been bigger than him, 15 year olds that that had bad mouthed Merle to his baby brothers face because they didn’t have the balls to say it directly to Merle. Daryl had landed the first punch and managed to get a few other good hits but they’d overpowered him, one pinning his squirming body as the other laid into him, punching and kicking repeatedly until a teacher had reluctantly broken it up and sent him home.

 

His explanation had fallen on deaf ears, as far as his father was concerned he’d lost the fight and brought shame on the Dixon name.

 

“Gonna have to teach you to man up” his father had declared as he grabbed him by the hair and dragged him outside, hurling him against a large tree. 

 

He’d forced his son to strip and stand with his hands above his head, braced face first against the sturdy trunk as he slowly removed his belt.

 

“Make a man out of you yet. Toughen you up so you don’t lose again, you little pussy” the older Dixon had sneered as he swung the belt, the buckle biting into the soft flesh of his back and buttocks over and over. Once the whipping was over his father had made him stand there for hours, naked and bleeding and in full view of his drinking buddies when they arrived to collect his pa for the regular Friday night poker game. Their jeers and insults had stayed with him for a long time after, as had the fear he felt at the lustful glances from one particular man, who Daryl had made sure he was never alone with after that night. 

 

“Look at me!” Lisa’s voice cut into his thoughts and he realised he was shaking violently. One of her hands was on his jaw, lifting his face to hers as she meet his eyes.

 

“Keep looking at me, we’ll get through this” she reassured him. She glanced at Negan, then at the braying, laughing Saviours and made a decision she prayed she wouldn’t regret.

 

Quickly she snatched up the towel she’d dropped to the ground and, reaching around Daryl, she wrapped it around his middle, covering him from waist to knee. She didn’t dare look at Negan as she quickly removed the wet pants and replaced them with the dry ones keeping him covered at all times. His trembling stopped and he shot her a brief grateful look, before his eyes widened and he tried to tell her to move. Negan’s large hand closed over her wrist and he hurled her backwards, flinging her roughly to the tarmac at his feet.

 

“You think you were being clever do you?” he snarled as he circled her fallen figure.

 

“I did what you asked” Lisa stayed down, head lowered as she tried to feign ignorance. 

“You wanted me to get him into dry clothes and I did” she raised a tear stained face to the irate man looming over her.

 

“Please, what did I do wrong?” she pleaded.

 

Negan reached down, hurling her to her feet by her hair once more. He raised his big fist, preparing to strike her.

 

“Leave the girl be, bastard!” Daryl was pulling against the ropes, trying to free himself as he yelled, doing what he could to divert Negan’s attention from the cowering woman and her sobbing son.

 

“Make you feel like a big man does it? Hitting a little slip of a thing like her” Daryl continued to goad as Negan let go of Lisa and she slumped to the ground.

 

Daryl swallowed hard as Negan stalked towards him, his eyes dark and furious. A silence had fallen over the yard as the crowd of watchers waited with baited breath to see how this foolhardy bravado was dealt with.

 

Negan stopped inches from Daryl, looming over the smaller, bound man as he swung Lucille casually by his side.

 

“I could beat the living shit out of you, have my men kick you into next week but I don’t think you’d learn anything from it. I could pound your dumb, hick head into the ground with Lucille but then I’d have to go get someone else from Rick’s little band of friends, just to keep him in line. Maybe that boy of his or perhaps that pretty little brunette Dwight’s got a hard on for” Negan flashed a look over his shoulder, seeking out Dwight’s burned face.

 

“What was her name again” he asked

 

“Rosita” Dwight leered, somehow managing to make her name sound obscene as it rolled from his lips “Hell yeah, kill this dick, I’ll volunteer to go get sweet little Rosita any day you want. Sure she’d appreciate being round a real man for once” There was a round of laughter as he made an obscene movement with his hips, making his intentions clear and Daryl felt his stomach turn at the thought of him getting his hands on the young woman he considered one of his family.

 

With a wave of his hand Negan had Daryl untied from the staircase and, with his hands still cuffed behind him, he was pushed down next to Lisa, a firm grip on his shoulders holding him in place.

 

“No” Negan mused as he paced around them “I need something neither of you will ever forget”

 

He stopped, staring down at Lisa, a chilling smile on his face. Her face paled as realisation suddenly dawned.

 

“No!!” she screamed, lurching to her feet and hurling herself at Negan. With a grin Connor caught her around the waist, swinging her around and pulling her away. A cold, sinking feeling swept over Daryl as Negan glanced over at him.

 

“Just remember this is all on you. If you’d knelt for me yesterday none of this would have happened”

 

“Don’t!” Daryl yelled desperately “You don’t gotta do this, I’ll kneel, I’ll do what the hell you want, just don’t do this”

 

“Too late now” Negan turned away dismissively. He gave Lisa a last, cold smile as she fought to free herself from Connor’s hold.

 

With a few swift strides he was in front of Michael as the child twisted in his captor’s grip, wanting nothing more than to get to his sobbing mother.

 

Daryl knew he would hear Lisa’s animalistic, anguished screams for the rest of his life as, in one fluid motion, Negan pulled the short bladed knife from his belt and slit the boy’s throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it, opinions are greatly appreciated.
> 
> Please read Bruised Souls by the wonderful lizziekat15, she's kindly put me down as co-author but, honestly, it's all her work and ideas, I just offer the odd words of encouragement and make a few small, random suggestions. If you like dark, angsty, Daryl suffering a lot stories then this is for you.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all those who left kudos and comments on the last chapter, you're all wonderful.  
> This chapter is a bit longer than I meant it to be but I couldn't find a good place to split it. I hope you don't find it too boring.  
> There are some dark themes ahead, including a mother dealing with the loss of her child and Negan being a Bastard.  
> Enjoy.

Chapter 7

 

Connor let go of Lisa and she ran to Michael, throwing herself to his side and gathering his body into her arms as she tried frantically to stop the blood still gushing from the open wound. 

 

Daryl turned away, unable to watch as she clung to her son, pleading with him not to leave her, when it was clear he was already gone. He felt the tears prick the back of his eyes as he realised that once again someone had died because of him, this time an innocent child.

 

A rough hand gripped his hair and yanked his head up, twisting it painfully, forcing him to look at the woman and child. He saw the Doctor approach Lisa, her face tight with anger and grief and she knelt beside the grieving mother.

 

“You caused this, you’re going to look at what you did” Negan hissed as he kept a firm grip on Daryl’s hair, giving him no chance to look away.

 

“Lisa, Honey, I’m so sorry” The Doctor wrapped her arms around the wailing woman, holding her close as she tried to prise the woman’s grip from the small body. “I’m sorry, sweetie but he’s gone and you know what we need to do now”

 

“No!” Lisa’s cry was heartbreaking as the Doctor finally managed to pull her away. 

 

“We have to, you don’t want him coming back do you?” The Doctor glared at Negan, daring him to say anything “Let us sort this then I’ll help you bury him” Another woman came forward and helped lead Lisa away, taking her inside the main building.

 

Connor pulled a knife from the sheath at his belt and moved towards the still body but a command from Negan stopped him.

 

“No, not you” 

 

He gave the order for Daryl to be uncuffed and had him pushed over to the child’s corpse. 

 

As several Saviours pointed guns at him Negan shoved a knife into Daryl’s hand.

 

“Your fault he’s dead, you should be the one to do it” When Daryl hesitated Negan leaned closer. “You want him to turn so his mother has to see that, haven’t you caused her enough grief already?”

 

Slowly Daryl dropped to his knees at Michael’s side. With shaking hands he gently lifted the boy’s head, lining the knife up with the base of his skull at the back so his face would be unmarked. Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes he pushed the knife in quickly, before pulling it back out. Looking at the bloodied knife in his hand he briefly wondered if he could move fast enough to ram it into Negans throat before the others shot him. Before he could act on the thought the blade was ripped from his hand and he was hurled to his feet. 

He was finally allowed to pull the clean shirt on, then had to endure Connor gloating as he painted the familiar A on to his chest and back once again, before he was shoved in front of Negan. 

 

“Take him to the cemetery, get him to dig the grave, seems the least he could do” Negan ordered turning away. 

 

“Oh wait, almost forgot” he said as he turned back, swinging his huge fist into Daryl’s face.

 

“That’s for talking without permission back there” The force of the blow knocked Daryl back, the men holding him hardly able to keep him upright from the impact. 

 

“After he’s finished digging get some food and water into him, don’t want him passing out on us. Then get him to work again”

 

It took Daryl a long time to dig the small grave, he was exhausted, hurting, hungry and dehydrated. His head was spinning from a combination of Negan’s blow and lack of nutrition and sleep. As he dug the guilt ate into him, another death because of him. He failed Sophia, he failed Beth, he failed Glenn and Abraham and by default the rest of his family. The first few days of his captivity, while he’d been chained to the hospital bed, he’d fantasised about them coming to rescue him, now over a week into his imprisonment he knew they weren’t coming and he didn’t blame them. He was nothing more than a liability that kept messing up and getting people killed. They were better off without him.

 

Finally he was finished, climbing from the shallow hole. The men watching him finished their cigarettes before pushing him ahead of them into the main building. They shoved him into a large room which he figured must have been the staff canteen back in the days before the turn. There were rows of tables and chairs and several men were lazing around, tucking into heaped plates of meat and vegetables, swigging from bottles of beer or downing large mugs of coffee. The combination of smells made Daryl’s stomach rumble and his mouth water.

 

He was pushed to a large serving counter, three women behind it, bustling around as they kept the huge, heated serving platters stocked with food. He eyed the spread laid out in front of him, his hunger almost making him forget it was all food stolen from other communities, communities like Alexandria. 

 

The men escorting him laughed.

 

“Aint no point you looking at that” one of them pointed out “That aint for the likes of you” He indicated a large pot at the end of the counter, it’s contents an unappealing, congealed mess.

 

“That’s yours” he grinned, grabbing a bowl and ladeling a helping of the unappetizing goop into it before thrusting it into Daryl’s hand. 

 

“Go take it to Emma there, so she can mark down what you took” the man shoved a grubby glass of cloudy looking water into his other hand and pushed him towards a thin, tired woman seated at a table, a large open ledger in front of her.

 

“Then go sit yer ass down with the rest of the pricks, we’ll come get you when we’re finished our breakfast” The man indicated to the back of the room and Daryl saw several other men in similar garb to his, sitting on the floor, listlessly picking at the contents of their bowls.

He was too hungry to be picky and made his way to the woman.

 

“Name” she asked barely looking up.

 

“Daryl Dixon” he told her and she thumbed through the ledger until she found the page with his name at the top.

 

He saw two lists side by side, the one on the left far longer than the other. Emma glanced at the bowl in his hand before adding a note to the bottom of the longer list.

 

“What’s that?” he asked pointing to the page, forgetting not to talk. She glanced up, taking in his appearance and giving him a sympathetic look before putting her finger to her lips and shushing him.

 

She pointed to the long list “That’s what you owe” she explained “and this” she pointed to the other side of the page “ is what you’ve earned. It’s not looking too good at the moment. You owe over a thousand points because of all the medical treatment you received when you arrived”

 

He glanced around making sure no one was within hearing range before asking.

 

“How many I earned?”

 

“22” she told him sadly “it was a few more but you lost some for bad behaviour” She glanced at the food and water in his hand “that’s going to cost you 50 points, just to give you an idea”

 

”I’m sorry you’re in this situation” she whispered “You know you can earn points by trading. Have you anything you can offer” he shook his head.

 

“Aint got nothin’” he muttered “never gonna get out of this place”

 

Emma leant forward “Some of the women earn extra points by offering themselves. You’re a good looking guy, maybe you can make an arrangement with someone” She gave him a coy look “I’d offer but I barely have any points myself. You don’t earn many sitting here and Negan won’t give me a better job”

 

He felt his face go hot at her suggestion but was saved from having to reply when she sat back suddenly, waving him away from her table.

“Go quick” Emma hissed suddenly “Before he realises you’re talking to me”

 

Daryl saw Negan strut into the room and at once people slipped from their chairs,dropping to one knee. Quickly, before he was spotted he made his way to the back of the room to sit with the other prisoners. He picked at the cold food in the bowl, not even sure what he was eating. He choked down as much as he could and drained the glass of tepid water, then sat quietly, waiting for his escort to finish their breakfast.

 

Eventually they sauntered over, one of them still stuffing a large piece of bacon in his mouth as he told Daryl to get his ass moving.

 

For the rest of that day and the following three days Daryl was worked almost to the point of collapse at the most menial, backbreaking jobs that could be found. Each night he was chained to the staircase again, left outside like a dog after Negan decided he hadn’t earned the right to be allowed a space inside. He was relieved that after that first long night, he was allowed enough slack in the rope that he could at least sit, although his hands were cuffed painfully behind him every night. Every day he refused breakfast and lunch, only taking enough water during the day to survive. He took the least amount of food he could each night, determined not to build up any more debt. The injury on his chest was causing him a lot of problems, he was sure it was badly infected and he was finding it harder and harder to keep going as the infection spread. He knew he should tell someone but also knew any medications he was given would just add to his debt.

 

Four days after Michael’s death Daryl was working on reinforcing the fences, hard manual labour with several of the other male hostages. It was a hot day and they were all working in full sun with no shade or water and Daryl was finding it difficult to stay focused. His vision kept fading in and out and he felt light headed and nauseous. 

 

A flash of blonde made him look up and he saw Lisa walking across the compound. Even from a distance he could see her eyes were red and swollen, could see the tear tracks on her cheeks.

 

“Hey asshole!” a cuff to the back of his head from one of the guards got his attention.

 

“Keep your eye on the job, not the blonde” the man sneered “like she’d look twice at a piece of shit like you, even before you got her kid killed”

 

Daryl swallowed back the retort and returned to manhandling a heavy fence post into place, stealing quick glances at Lisa as she continued her way across the compound. As he watched she glanced furtively around her, suddenly picking up her pace as she headed to one of the unoccupied watch platforms. A bad feeling came over Daryl as he looked at chained walkers snarling against the fence just under the platform and then back to the determined look on the woman’s face.

 

Suddenly he realised her intentions and, with a muffled curse, let the post crash to the ground as he set off at a dead run towards her. He heard the yells and knew the guards were after him as he forced himself to pick up speed. Lisa had reached the steps to the platform and was slowly climbing them. She heard the commotion he was causing and turned, her eyes locking with his briefly before she continued to make her way up the steps.

 

Daryl felt a hand grip his shirt as one of the guards caught up with him and he lashed out blindly, somehow managing to land a punch hard enough to make the man let go. Using what little strength he had left he half ran, half crawled up the steps to the platform. Lisa was on the far side, gazing down at the snarling walkers beneath her.

 

“Don’t” he pleaded, his hand reaching out for her “Don’t let that asshole win, this aint the right thing to do”

 

Lisa gave him a small, tired smile.

 

“It’s the only thing left to do” she said softly. 

 

Everything seemed to slow down as he lunged forward trying to reach her as she threw herself over the fence. He saw her body disappear from view, heard the impact as she landed on the ground the other side. The growls and snarls of the chained walkers grew more frenzied as they surged forward to reach the woman.

 

Daryl stumbled to the fence, forcing himself to look down. It was only about a ten foot drop and Lisa had survived the fall, landing heavily on her back with one leg twisted awkwardly under her body. As he watched helplessly the first walker reached her. She made no effort to escape, just lay passively as it dropped down and sank it’s teeth into her stomach, other walkers began to surround her and he lost sight of her body under the heaving mass. The sound of their frenzied feeding made him turn to the side, dropping to his knees and throwing up what little was in his stomach. He heard shouts and the stomp of boots on the wooden planks behind him and a distant voice telling him he was in so much trouble now.

 

He tried to rise but it was just too much effort and he slumped back down, He was aware of someone looming over him, demanding he get to his feet, he felt the kick to his side, the backhanded slap to his face but his vision was going and he welcomed the blackness.

 

When he woke again he found himself back in the infirmary. Once again he was restrained by the straps around his wrists and legs. A drip was attached to his arm and he realised his head felt clear, the wounds on his chest no longer hot and itchy.

 

There was the scrap of a chair being pushed back and the Doctor was by his side. She reached down and lay her cool hand on his forehead.

 

“Temperature’s down” she commented “I think you’re over the worse now”

 

“Hell happened?” he ground out, biting back the frustration, knowing this medical care was going to cost him.

 

“You tried to help that poor girl, then passed out” The Doctor told him as she lifted his head and slipped a pillow under it before helping him sip some water. “That was almost two days ago”

 

“You were dehydrated and malnourished and the injury on your chest was badly infected” she informed him in a clipped voice.

 

“Why didn’t you say anything? You were about a day away from full blown septicemia and then it would be unlikely I’d been able to save you” She narrowed her eyes as he turned his head, unable to look at her.

 

“That’s what you were hoping for isn’t it” she asked softly “You were looking for a way out. Is that why you’re not eating or drinking enough as well”

 

“No, aint that” his head snapped round “Didn’t want no more treatment added to what I owe, same with food. I’m taking enough to stay alive but no more. I wanna get out of here, back to my family” he hated how weak he sounded, whining like a spoiled child but he couldn’t help himself.

 

“What were you thinking?!” she snapped suddenly “If you’d just co-operate, do what he says and kneel like everyone else none of this would have happened. I don’t understand, you’ve taken everything else he’s thrown at you but you won’t kneel, the one thing he wants you to do. Why won’t you do that simple thing?”

 

Daryl stared at her silently for a few moments and she thought he wasn’t going to reply when suddenly he spoke.

 

“My Pa was a mean son of a bitch, can’t really remember ever seeing him when he wasn’t pissed or high, usually both. He got his kicks beating the crap outta me and my brother, Merle” He stopped and the Doctor sat next to him on the bed, her hand on his arm reassuringly.

 

“Is that where the scars on your back came from?” she asked quietly.

 

Daryl nodded “Yeah, he liked to use his belt, had some big ugly ass buckle that hurt like a bitch. Sometimes he used a switch he’d make me go cut from a tree outside. If it weren’t big enough he’d double the number of times he was planning to use it. He was a cruel bastard and it got worse for me when Merle got sent to juvie”

 

He swallowed hard and she helped him take a few more sips of water before he continued.

 

“He used to tell me all the time I was a good for nothing waste of space, said my Ma had whored around and I weren’t even his kid, said I should be grateful he was taking care of me. He used to make me kneel in the corner of the room for hours at a go, even made me eat like that, when he remembered to feed me. If I tried to sit on my butt or relax he’d beat the shit outta me. Went on for about two, maybe three years and I swore I’d never kneel for anyone again” He turned away from the Doctor and she heard the pain in his voice.

 

“I weren’t gonna do it for that asshole out there and now that kid and his mamma are dead ‘cos of me” She pretended not to notice the catch in his words, swallowing back the lump in her own throat. “They’re dead ‘cos I was too dumb to do what I should’ve”

 

“I get it, I really do” she rose, checking the IV, just for something to do while she composed herself.

 

“But it’s what Negan does, he finds a person's’ weakness, the chink in their armour, and he plays on it. He used your aversion to physical contact and the fact that you seem to blame yourself for everything bad that happens to others, even when it’s something you have no control over. You can’t let him get to you, you have to think about surviving. If kneeling is what you have to do to get through this then do it. Surely it’s worth it to get back to your people in one piece”

 

“Not sure if they want me back, don’t do nothing but cause them trouble” he mumbled.

 

“They’re desperate to get you back” she told him, surprised he thought otherwise. “I overheard Negan tell Connor that Rick had offered a higher percentage of supplies if you were returned. He found it funny that they were pleading to see you, that they wanted reassurances you were still alive and unharmed” She sighed “The man’s an ego maniac and you can’t believe half of what he says. He gets his kicks messing with people’s heads. What almost happened to you in the bathroom that day, that was a set up to scare you. It was never going to happen. If they had carried on he would have killed them. He says he won’t stand for sexual assault of any kind and then forces those poor women to be his wives”

 

Daryl glanced at her.

 

“What wives?” he asked just as the door was thrown open.

 

“Well lookie here, it seems Sleeping Beauty has finally woken up” Negan boomed as he strode into the room with Connor, two other men carrying boxes behind them.

 

“What do you want Negan?” The Doctor had dropped to one knee but her question was laced with disrespect.

 

The smile slipped from Negan’s face.

 

“You really are pushing me Doctor” he told her coldly “One day you’ll go too far and then you’ll regret it” He leaned over her small figure.

 

“Best you take care, my dear Amanda, you’re already on borrowed time. “The fact you’re the only one here with any medical experience is about the only thing keeping you safe at the moment”

 

Negan sauntered over to the bed, smiling down at Daryl.

 

“And how are we feeling today?” he asked “A lot better I hope” He reached down and ripped the IV needle from Daryl’s arm

 

“You don’t need that now, we’re going to get some real food into you” At his nod the men began to unload the boxes onto the nearest counter.

 

“When I was a boy and got sick my Grandmother always insisted on chicken soup as the cure for anything. And it always seemed to work. Luckily for you it just so happens we had some chicken soup in stores” Negan paused as one of the men dramatically held up a can of soup, presenting it to Daryl like fine wine in a restaurant before emptying the contents into a pan placed on a portable stove.

 

“Don’t want yer damn soup” Daryl snarled.

 

“I didn’t say you had a choice in the matter” Negan informed him. “I looked at the points ledger and saw just how little you’ve been taking, barely enough to survive on. I can’t have you keep swooning on me like an anorexic teenager”

 

From the corner of his eye Daryl saw Connor pulling on a pair of thick leather gloves, the grin on his face disturbing.

 

Suddenly the pillow was wrenched from under his head and a strong arm was wrapped across his throat, pinning him to the mattress. Another arm was shoved against the side of his face, the two arms clamping his head in a tight grip, making it near impossible for him to move.

 

Connor’s grin grew wider as he approached, flexing his leather clad fingers ominously. He gripped Daryl’s lower jaw painfully, digging into the soft flesh under his chin as he forced his mouth open. At once he pushed two fingers into Daryl’s mouth. Instinctively Daryl tried to bite down but the thick gloves prevented him from doing any damage and Connor managed to force his mouth open further.

 

Daryl saw a blur of movement and the Doctor he now knew was called Amanda, was there, shouting at Negan as she tried to pull Connor from him. He saw Negan raise his hand and lash out, knocking the small woman back. Negan struck her again and she went down. He didn’t see her get up again.

 

“Mark! You ready yet?” Negan demanded at the man heating the soup.

 

“Just about done” the young, dark haired man handed Negan a jugful of steaming soup before collecting a couple of items from the counter behind him.

 

As he approached Daryl saw he was holding a length of rubber tubing and a plastic funnel. At once he began to thrash, desperately trying to loosen the grip on his head and pull free from Connor’s painful hold on his jaw.

 

“Gonna have to hold him still for this” Mark commented “Don’t want to rupture anything with the tube. It could kill him”

 

Negan shot him an impatient look.

 

“Do what the hell you need, just get on with it. I got better things to be doing with my time, things like a certain pretty little redhead named Amber” Negan grinned as he saw Mark try and fail to hold back the flinch at the mention of the woman’s name.

 

Daryl twisted and fought as much as he could but the combination of the restraints and the grip on his head limited him to nothing more than a pathetic wriggle, managing to lift his back from the bed by a few inches and no more.

 

With a sigh Mark climbed onto the bed and swung a leg over Daryl’s chest, settling himself and using his body weight to still even that small amount of rebellion. Connor used his fingers to force Daryl’s mouth even wider and Mark inserted the rubber tube. Carefully he began to slid the tube down the hunter’s throat.

 

As Daryl began to choke and gag at the intrusion Mark leant forward.

 

“Just relax” he whispered “It’ll be easier if you stop fighting it”

 

“That’s what I tell my wives!” Negan suddenly boomed, with a roar of laughter “just lay back and take it like the bitch you are” He glanced down at Daryl, chuckling at his helplessness, taunting him for the tears rolling down his cheeks as he fought to draw a breath, choking on both the tube and his own saliva.

 

Finally the assault stopped, Mark deciding the tube had gone far enough, and he reached for the funnel. As soon as it was inserted into the tube Negan began to pour the soup, the burning liquid spilling over the sides of the funnel, splashing onto Daryl’s face, running down his chin and cheeks. As it slipped down the tube towards his stomach the rubber heated up and Daryl could feel it burning his insides. The agony was unlike anything he’d ever experienced and he couldn’t help the whimpers that escaped as Negan continued to pour until the entire jug was empty. The tube was roughly ripped out and Connor pulled his fingers free, wiping the spilled soup and saliva from the gloves onto Daryl’s shirt to clean them off.

 

The grip on his head was released and Daryl fought to take in air through his damaged throat, turning his head to the side as the urge to throw up became almost too much. His body shuddered as burning bile filled the back of his mouth.

 

“You puke it up, we’ll do it again” Negan warned him. 

 

Daryl forced himself to hold back the nausea, his throat raw from both the tube and the burning soup. He felt the restraints being removed from his wrists and legs and as soon as he was free he rolled onto his side, curling in on himself in a fetal position. Every gasping breath was agony, the air itself feeling like it was tearing him apart internally. Hacking coughs he couldn’t stop wracked through his body, causing him to moan in pain. 

 

Dimly he was aware of Amanda slowing stirring and climbing to her feet, her hand moving to her face, gingerly touching the bruise already forming on her cheek. He saw her look at him, saw the pity on her face turn to anger as she faced Negan. He wanted to tell her to stay quiet, that he wasn’t worth her risking herself for again but he couldn’t get the words out. 

 

The brief exchange was heated, his addled mind unable to take in most of what was said but suddenly Negan was looming over him again, grabbing at him and forcing him to look up.

 

“I’m going to let you have a few minutes then I expect to see you back working on the fences. From now on you’ll eat and drink what you’ re given, when you’re given it or this will be repeated until you learn”

 

His leaned down, his face inches from Daryl’s.

 

“And you will kneel for me because if you don’t things will get even worse. All this is nothing compared to what I can, and will, do to you if you continue to defy me” He patted Daryl’s cheek gently.

 

“Do you understand?” When he was meet with silence he grinned.

 

“Good boy” he said patronisingly “You’re learning your place. You have permission to talk this time. Do you understand?”

 

Feeling more helpless than he ever had in his life Daryl lowered his eyes, hating himself for his weakness as he mumbled an unintelligible reply.

 

Negan cupped a hand behind his ear.

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that. Say it louder” he ordered.

 

“I understand” Daryl ground out, the effort of speaking almost too much to bare.

 

With a satisfied nod Negan straightened, turning to Mark.

 

“Stay here with him, make sure she don’t give him any meds” he glanced at Amanda as she stood to one side “We don’t need to waste any more on the likes of him”

 

“I’m gonna be busy for the next couple of hours” Negan gave Mark a wink “if you know what I mean. I don’t expect to be disturbed. Get our friend here back out there as soon as possible. I want him earning his keep, no one gets a free ride”

 

With Connor and the other man close behind him Negan strode from the room.

 

The second the door was closed Mark kicked out, sending a chair skittering across the room.

 

“Bastard!” he snarled as he hurled the now empty jug against the wall.

 

“Mark!” Amanda’s voice was harsh “ I can only guess what you’re going through right now but this won’t help you or Amber” She caught his arm and pulled him into a hug and Daryl was startled to see tears in the Saviours eyes.

 

“It’s the way he gloats, rubs it in, makes sure I know exactly what he’s doing to her” he scrubbed at his eyes “You know he’ll make sit and drink a beer with him after, while he tells me all about what he did to the woman I love, what he made her do to him” a sob shook his body before he could stop it.

 

“I’m going to get her away from him, even if it kills me” he vowed as he gently pushed Amanda away, reaching his hand out to check her injured face.

 

“You should get some ice on that” he told her meaningfully, glancing at Daryl. 

 

“I should” she agreed “and a glass of milk from that cow they bought in from Hilltop would help as well. Tell Emma to take it from my points, I’ve got plenty”

 

As Mark slipped from the room Amanda approached Daryl, puzzled when he pulled away from her.

 

“Don’t” he mumbled “Best you don’t touch me, don’t want you getting hurt again for helping me” 

 

“That’s my decision, not yours” she scolded as she wetted a cloth and gently began to clean his face. “You heard him, I’m the only medic here, he can’t afford to get rid of me. I’m safe”

 

Daryl shook his head, regretting it instantly as the pain shot through him.

 

“Aint no one safe from someone like him, guy’s an asshole” He tried again to push her away but she continued to ignore him. 

 

Mark returned with a bowl of ice cubes in one hand and a large tumbler of milk in the other.

 

“Told Emma what it was for and she didn’t mark down the ice, said she wanted to help” He explained as he set the items down next to the bed.

 

Amanda nodded “She’s a good woman” she commented as she set down the cloth.

 

“We need to sit you up now” she told Daryl. He was too tired to fight and reluctantly allowed himself to be assisted into a sitting position, his back against the wall. His chest felt tight, the soup sitting heavy in his stomach, the need to throw up not far away as Amanda held out the bowl of ice.

 

“Suck on these” she ordered “the cold will numb the pain a little and help bring down any swelling from the burns. Then I want you to drink the milk, it will coat your throat and help sooth it. I should give you antibiotics but we don’t have many and he’ll notice if any are missing. Hopefully the ones I gave you for your infection will be enough to help”

 

Reluctantly he did as she said, relieved to find the ice did actually ease things a little. He sipped the milk slowly, he’d never been a fan of the stuff but trusted Amanda when she told him it would help. As he rested back against the wall Mark approached him cautiously.

 

“I had no choice, I had to do that” he said quietly “He’s got my girlfriend Amber and I’m not risking her for you” He paused “I’m not like him though - I just wanted you to know that, but I will do what it takes to keep her safe” 

 

Daryl studied him for a second before nodding,

 

“I get that” he replied “You do what you have to to keep your people safe. Don’t mean you gotta like it”

 

He put the empty milk glass down and swung his legs from the bed, slowly and unsteadily getting to his feet, ignoring the protests from Mark and Amanda.

 

“No one else is getting hurt ‘cos of me” he snapped, glaring at Mark.

 

“Aint you meant to be getting me back to work?” 

 

With a shrug Mark followed Daryl to the door, catching hold of his arm so it looked like he was escorting him.

 

They made their way down several corridors and into the yard, where Mark handed Daryl back to the guards watching the prisoners repairing the fences and he was put back to work, once more under the hot sun.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter and the fact it's pretty short but real life has been inconsideratly getting in the way of my writing time.  
> Hope you enoy it.

Chapter 8

 

For the next few days Daryl was worked hard, long exhausting days and even longer nights. He still spent each night outside, chained to the staircase, despite the fact that winter was rapidly approaching and the thin, worn clothes he wore offered no protection to the elements. 

 

Each morning he was unchained and taken into the mess hall where he forced down whatever scraps of food were thrust at him as men watched to make sure he ate everything he was given He was still in pain from the force feeding and those making him eat took great delight in making sure whatever they gave him caused the most discomfort. They gave him gristly lumps of almost unchewable meat, dry crackers he could barely swallow and soup or stews that would have been too hot to eat in normal circumstances, never mind with a throat that could barely tolerate water. On one occasion he was brought a bowl full of stew, the meat in it tender and well cooked, the vegetables fresh and crisp. Before he had a chance to eat a laughing man had stirred several spoonfuls of chilli powder into it. Eating had been agony, the hot spice searing into his damaged throat and burning it’s way to his stomach. For the men in the mess hall it was the most entertaining thing they’d seen in weeks as they laughed and jeered, enjoying his suffering.

 

Once he’d finished he was told to take the empty bowl to the women behind the counter and get a drink. He handed the bowl over and reached for one of the glasses of tepid water, already laid out for the prisoners. As his hand closed round it, fingers brushed against his, discreetly directing him to another glass. Glancing up he saw Emma, a small half smile on her face, as she glanced to the side. Following her look he saw Amanda, she caught his look and gave a small nod. He took the suggested glass, surprised to find the water was icy cold. He gulped it down, the coldness easing the burn before he noticed the slightly bitter taste.

 

“Pain killers” Emma whispered as she leant forward on the pretense of taking the now empty glass from him. “Best we can do at the moment”

 

As he was lead from the mess hall back to work, Daryl found himself wondering why people were still prepared to help him when all he did was get people killed.

 

All he could think about now was escape, he spent his waking hours trying to come up with a plan but nothing seemed to work. His nights were spent huddled against the staircase, his legs pulled to his chest as he tried to conserve body heat, his malnourished frame wracked by shivers. The nights it rained were the worse, hours spent in soaking clothes, sitting in a puddle of cold rain water and he couldn’t remember the last time he actually felt warm.

 

He overheard the guards saying Negan had gone on a tour of the outposts and would be away for a couple of days. The atmosphere within the Sanctuary was different, more relaxed without the despot leader there and the prisoners had a slightly easier time, as the guards spent their time talking and smoking instead of enforcing Negans rules

 

The second night Negan was away, sometime in the early hours, Daryl was jolted from his light sleep by soft footfalls on the staircase behind him. A slim, pretty, redhaired woman was making her way down and she shot him a pleading glance when she saw him looking at her.

 

“Please” she whispered “please don’t give us away”

 

Daryl saw Mark slip from behind a parked truck running to the woman and pulling her into his arms.

 

“Amber” he whispered burying his face in her hair as she clung to him.

 

Pulling back Mark saw Daryl’s intent stare on them.

 

“She’s my girlfriend” he felt the need to explain “Negan wanted her so he made her become one of his wives. Told her he’d kill me if she refused him. Bastard says he doesn’t allow rape but all his so called willing wives are there because he threatens the people they love. He’s got Dwight’s wife,Sherry, as well”

 

He shifted under Daryl’s look before the older man spoke.

 

“I’ll tell ‘em you went that way” he said with a jerk of his head behind him.

 

“Thank you” Amber shot him a grateful smile as Mark grabbed her hand and they set off at a run.

 

Daryl didn’t watch how they got out, he was too busy feeling resentful they were going to be free while he was still stuck there.

 

Negan returned mid morning the next day with a truck load of supplies from one of the communities he stole from and a bound man with a bag over his head. Daryl figured he was a new hostage, brought to the Sanctuary to control another group.

 

It wasn’t long before the alarm was raised about the runaways and Daryl found himself thrown at a furious Negan’s feet.

 

“Did you see them?” Negan demanded.

 

“Don’t know what yer talkin’ about” Daryl smirked at the man towering over him.

 

At once Negan’s booted foot slammed into his stomach, flipping him onto his back, the same foot pressing down on his chest and holding him in place

 

“Not in the mood to play games today” Negan pulled his knife and shoved the blade against Daryl throat.

 

“Either you tell me which way they went or I’ll slit you open and we’ll go get Rosita for Dwight to play with” The blade moved closer and Daryl felt the point pierce his skin, warm blood trickling under his collar

 

“You aint gonna go get anyone” he snarled “I got no reason to protect that son of a bitch” he raised his hand and pointed in the opposite direction the couple had run. “They went that way”

 

Negan stepped away, calling his lieutenants to him. As they spoke Daryl saw Dwight look in his direction a few times before Negan turned back.

 

“Dwight tells me you’re a pretty good tracker, so you’re gonna go out there and find them for me” he ordered.

 

Daryl wanted to tell him to go screw himself but the chance to be outside the walls was too good to pass up on. It might be his best chance of escaping and he was going to take it.

 

An hour later, after his boots had been returned, with his hands bound in front of him, he was leading a small group of Saviours through the forest surrounding the Sanctuary. He lead them on a wild goose chase for miles, all the time looking for the right moment to make his bid for freedom. Dwight was at his side, watching him carefully.

 

“You sure they came this way?” he asked suddenly

 

Daryl nodded, pointing to a broken branch and trampled grass that could have been weeks old.

 

“Yeah, they aint even trying to be careful, a blind man could follow this trail” he scoffed, hoping none of the men with him had any tracking experience. 

 

Finally they came to the side of a paved road and, now they were out of the trees, one of the men used his radio to call in their situation and location.

 

“Negan says we gotta wait here, he’s sending a truck to pick us up. We’re needed back at base” He informed them.

 

They sat, most of them smoking, one snoozing, as they waited. Daryl sat to one side, using the respite to keep working on the badly tied ropes around his wrists. He leant back against a tree, doing his best to look like he was napping, all the time loosening the bindings.

 

A roar of engines announced the arrival of the truck, two motorcycles escorting it, all three stopping on the side of the road.

 

Daryl watched as the bikers pulled over and one climbed from his machine, heading for the treeline, already tugging at his belt. Glancing round Daryl saw his chance. The rope slipped from his wrists as he made a dash for the bike. He threw his leg over the saddle and started the engine, grateful the rider had left the key in the ignition in his haste to get to the trees and relieve himself. 

 

He was racing down the road before the others had even realised what was happening. A few stray bullets hit the pavement near him but nothing came close enough to cause a problem. He accelerated, taking a second to enjoy the familiar feeling of the wind on his face and the rumble of the machine beneath him as he flew up the road.

 

After a mile or two he slowed, swerving off the pavement and into the trees. He waited out of sight of the road and, just seconds later the second bike roared past, the truck just moments behind it. Once he was sure they were gone he revved the engine and pulled out onto the road again, heading back the direction he’d come from. He realised he had no idea where he was, when he’d been taken to the Sanctuary he’d been unconscious in the back of a car and had seen nothing. Checking the fuel gauge and seeing he had over half a tank, he figured the best thing to do was drive until he found the nearest town and hope he could navigate home from there.

 

He alternated between using the road and the forest, trying to throw off any possible pursuers. Rounding a bend he found his way blocked by a large pile of half burnt logs, piled across the road. A little further along he saw a concrete bridge, a twitching walker suspended from it by a rope around it’s neck. Carefully he guided the bike from the road and bypassed the obstruction. He navigated his way back onto the road and picked up speed, failing to see the man that stood on the bridge behind him, rising from his hiding place behind the parapet, speaking quickly into a radio as he watched the bike disappear from sight.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the comments, kudos and bookmarks on the last chapter, you are all wonderful people who make all the effort that goes into writing worthwhile.  
> Extra thanks to Cissoye for the entertaining comments, I enjoy reading them and hope that this chapter will satisfy your sadistic side.
> 
> As a side note Mark and Amber are from the graphic novels which I've not read but from what I've seen online I believe something similar happens to them there.

Chapter 9

 

Daryl rounded a tight bend and braked hard at the sight of the two trucks blocking the road in front of him, several Saviours standing alongside. He barely kept control of the heavy bike as he threw it sideways, desperately trying to get to the cover of the trees, the wide tyres scrabbling for grip on the wet leaves and moss as he weaved through the thick undergrowth. 

 

Bullets raked a tree to his side, splinters of wood flying into his exposed face and he risked a glance behind him. Five motorcycles were in pursuit, two of them dirt bikes, far more suited for off road conditions than the powerful bike he had stolen. Even as he watched the smaller, lighter bikes fanned off from the others, moving to the sides and he knew they were trying to outflank him. He pushed his bike harder, increasing his speed as much as he dared, swerving round trees and the occasional walker as he tried to put as much distance as possible between himself and his pursuers. 

 

He was just daring to believe he could make it when the front wheel clipped a large rock, hidden by fallen leaves and debris. The bike lurched sideways, the rear tyre already sliding out from under it and Daryl was thrown sideways from the saddle. He landed heavily on his injured shoulder, the bike landing on his leg, pinning him down for several long seconds until he managed to shove it off enough to get free. Shakily he got to his feet, wincing when he found he could barely put his weight on the damaged leg. The sound of the dirt bike engines reached him, one somewhere in front, the other, closer and somewhere to his side and he knew he had to move. The front wheel of the bike was twisted and useless so he set off in a painful, limping run, the sound of the bikes chasing him getting ominously closer.

 

As the abandoned, damaged bike came into view, Seth allowed himself a small smile as he slowed his dirt bike. The trail left by the fleeing man was obvious, it would only be a matter of minutes before they caught up with him and returned him to Negan. Seth wondered how the leader would punish the Alexandrian, he’d always been impressed with the man’s inventiveness when it came to keeping the prisoners in their place, using the suffering of one as a reminder to all the others what waited for them if they dared defy him. He accelerated slightly as he suddenly realised that if he were the one to recapture the escapee he would probably be awarded extra points and would be able to afford a few luxuries. The thought of a warm female body in his bed for a couple of nights distracted him and he didn’t see the figure step from behind the large tree until it was too late. 

 

The thick branch slammed into his chest, swiping him from the bike, leaving him dazed and winded on his back, as the bike continued forward a few yards before toppling over, it’s engine stalling. Seth tried to rise but the branch smacked into the side of his head, knocking him back down. Blinking through distorted vision he saw the looming figure raise the branch before bringing it down again, this time slamming into his face and he felt the bone in his cheek shatter. 

 

Daryl bought the branch down time and again, venting weeks worth of pain, anger and frustration on the now motionless body beneath him. Finally he stopped, breathing heavily as he stared down at the pulverised man. A feeling of disgust at what he’d done washed over him as he hurled the branch to one side, an image of Glenn in the clearing after Negan had finished with Lucille filling his mind. Pushing the uncomfortable comparisons to one side Daryl quickly righted the lightweight bike and mounted it. The engine started first go and he picked his way slowly through the trees, keeping an eye open for any sign of the other riders. 

 

He hadn’t gone far when the familiar rumble of a motorcycle engine filled the air. A glimpse of movement somewhere ahead had him change direction but a second bike appeared forcing him to adjust again. The third bike came from nowhere and he realised it had been laying in wait for the other two to herd him where they wanted him to go. He saw the grin on the rider’s face as he closed in, forcing Daryl back towards the other two riders. In desperation he opened up the throttle and sped towards the rapidly narrowing gap. The dirt bikes wheels span but somehow managed to find a grip on the wet, uneven ground as it surged forward. Daryl saw the look of surprise on the Saviours face as he flashed past with just inches to spare. 

 

Behind him he could hear shouts as the three bikers got in each other’s way trying to turn their vehicles and continue the chase. Daryl sped up knowing that once he reached the paved road the dirt bike would be at a disadvantage with it’s much smaller engine than the powerful Harleys and Triumphs the Saviours were riding. 

 

He burst from the cover of the trees and skidded onto the road, at once increasing his speed. He hadn’t gone far when the bike jerked violently, the front wheel sliding out from under him and he found himself thrown from the saddle for the second time that day. This time he landed heavily, sliding and rolling across the hot tarmac several times before coming to rest half in a water filled drainage ditch that ran parallel to the road. He blinked blood from his eyes as he tried to stand, his head throbbing from the large gash across his forehead. His left arm hung uselessly at his side and three fingers on his left hand were bent at an unnatural angle. The skin down his left side was raw and bleeding from sliding across the road surface and his left leg, already bruised from being crushed in his first crash, felt numb and sore.

 

He took a few stumbling steps, falling to one knee as his injured leg buckled beneath him. Gritting his teeth he forced himself up again, limping forward, heading to the forest in the desperate hope he could find somewhere to lay low until the Saviours had given up the search. He focused on the trees as he staggered again, barely managing to keep himself from falling. Passing the fallen dirt bike he noticed the shredded front tyre and at once his head snapped up, searching for the cause of the damage.

 

A grinning Saviour was standing at the roadside, casually leaning on the second dirt bike, the shotgun he’d used to shoot out the tyre of Daryl’s bike slung over his shoulder as he as watched the damaged man’s slow progress. His grin grew wider when he saw Daryl notice him for the first time and he began to saunter towards the injured hunter.

 

“Going somewhere asshole?” he drawled.

 

Knowing he’d never outrun him Daryl straightened his back and clenched his undamaged fist, determined not to go down without a fight. As soon as the man was close enough Daryl tried to swing a punch. It was weak, uncoordinated and easily dodged and the man used the butt of the shotgun to place a hard shove to Daryl’s chest sending him to the ground. At once he was back on his feet and the man gave him a nod of approval.

 

“You’re a stubborn son of a bitch, I’ll give you that” he declared as he circled the swaying escapee in front of him, feinting a blow every now and again, laughing as Daryl tried to defend himself from hits that were never intended to land.

 

The roar of engines announced the arrival of the other bikes and it wasn’t long before the riders had dismounted, surrounding Daryl as he watched them warily. The four men circled him and he tried to watch all of them but he was finding it harder and harder to stay upright and conscious. 

 

At some unspoken signal they all closed in at once and fists and boots began to fly. Thrown to the ground and no longer able to defend himself Daryl curled into a ball, trying to make himself as small a target as possible.

 

Distantly he heard one of the men saying something about not killing him and Negan wanting him alive and the punishment finally stopped. A shadow fell over him and a last kick to the head sent him into welcome oblivion.

 

When he woke he was laying face down on the dirty floor of a moving truck, several pairs of heavy boots holding him in place. His wrists were bound tightly behind his back, sending shockwaves of pain through his injured arm and fingers and a foul tasting rag was stuffed in his mouth, making it difficult to breath. He tried to move and at once felt himself pushed back into the truck bed by the men sitting above him, their booted feet grinding roughly into his agonised body.

 

“Negan’s gonna be so pissed at you” one of the men leaned down, poking one of the many bruises, causing him to groan in pain.

 

“You trashed two of his bikes and killed one of his men. I don’t even wanna think ‘bout what he’s gonna do to you as punishment” he grinned at the other men “All I know is it aint gonna be pretty” There were murmurs of agreement and Daryl saw Dwight staring down at him, a brief look of sympathy on his face before he closed it off again.

 

The truck slowed and Daryl heard shouts as the gate was opened, before the truck moved slowly forward again. Eventually it stopped and the men began to climb from the back.

 

“Go tell Negan we’re back and we got the bastard” Dwight ordered as he climbed down, giving Daryl one last look as he strode away.

 

A feeling he hadn’t felt since his Pa towered over him with his belt in his hand swept through Daryl and he realised he was scared of what was to come. He tried to kick out at the hands that grabbed his ankles and pulled him from the truck but he had no strength left. Unable to stop it he was hurled unceremoniously out, landing in a crumpled heap as his legs refused to bare his weight anymore. 

 

His boots scuffed against the ground as he was dragged to the middle of the large enclosure, finding himself thrown at Negan’s feet, before being yanked roughly to his knees, his head forced back so he had no choice but to look up at the towering man above him. 

 

Negan studied the man forced to kneel in front of him. He was bruised and bloodied, unable to stay upright by himself. There was an obvious cut to his head and he clearly had several broken bones and was in a lot of pain. There was fear in his eyes for the first time but that air of defiance was still there and Negan was determined to knock it out of him once and for all.

 

Daryl watched cautiously as Negan circled him slowly, Lucille held loosely in his hand. He remained silent as he took in every injury before finally dropping to his knees in front of Daryl, his face inches from his prisoner.

 

“I really don’t know what to do with you” he commented quietly “ you had my men running around the forest for hours in the wrong direction, wreaked two of my bikes and savagely killed one of my men” He rose gracefully 

 

“I have other things to deal with while I think about this” He smiled coldly “I really do need to find something suitable for this sort of behaviour, a punishment that will stop anyone else from even thinking of doing what you did”

 

The crowd gathered around the yard fell silent as Negan raised his hand.

 

“Bring them out” he demanded and at once two men dragged a struggling woman into the center of the crowd. Daryl’s heart sank as he recognised Amber, the woman that had run with Mark and he knew this wasn’t going to end well. 

 

Negan approached her, cupping her chin gently and lifting her head.

 

“Oh Amber” he crooned “I gave you everything and this is how you repay me” 

 

“Please” she begged “I’m sorry. I’ll do anything you want but please don’t hurt him” Almost lovingly Negan wiped the tears from her cheek with his thumb.

 

“It’s too late now” he told her sadly “You betrayed me and I can no longer trust you. You will remain as one of my wives but you need a reminder of what will happen if you ever displease me again”

 

There was a flurry of curses as Mark was dragged out and forced to bend over a wooden bench. Two men held him in place, pinning him by the shoulders as he squirmed and fought.

Negan approached him, standing over the thrashing man as he desperately tried to get free.

 

“And here’s me thinking we were friends” he said as he grabbed a handful of Marks hair, twisting his head sideways as he reached into a large metal container, using a thick cloth to pull out a heavy, old fashioned flat iron. As he pressed the iron to Mark’s face the man screamed in agony and Daryl realised with horror the metal container was actually a fire used to heat the iron. The hiss of burning flesh was drowned out by both Mark and Amber’s screams as Negan held the iron against Mark’s face for several long seconds before pulling it away, several long strands of flesh sticking to the base as he dropped it back into the container. 

 

“No one touches what’s mine” he declared “make sure the rest of you pussies remember that” He glanced at Mark’s now unconscious body.

 

“Take that sack of shit to the infirmary and get the doc to patch him up” he ordered before approaching a sobbing Amber.

 

“As for you, you ungrateful bitch” he grabbed her chin again and forced her head back as he kissed her violently “Go get yourself cleaned up and wait for me in my bed, I’ll be coming to deal with you soon”

 

Somehow Amber managed to pull herself together as she gave him a small nod before turning and walking toward the main building. Daryl noticed the two women waiting for her at the doorway and saw her collapse into their arms as soon as she reached them, before they hustled her off.

 

“Well now, we’re back with what to do with you now aren’t we?” Negan was in front of him again. “I’m really not sure we could physically hurt you much more than you already are can we” he joked as he turned away. 

 

Suddenly, without warning, he swung Lucille slamming her into Daryl’s shoulder with a sickening crack. Daryl screamed in agony, the sound muffled behind the gag, and he knew from experience the shoulder was dislocated. His Pa had done it at least twice before in his most savage beatings.

 

“I was wrong” Negan smiled “Looks like you can be hurt more” He nodded to two men standing to one side.

 

“The man you murdered was called Seth, this is his brother and father. I get the feeling they might not be too happy with you”

 

He turned to the men again, 

 

“Do what you want but don’t kill him. I’m not finished with him yet” he instructed.

 

Bound and injured Daryl could do nothing to defend himself and the beating was brief but brutal, leaving him in a pool of his own blood and barely able to see through half closed eyes. 

 

He was aware of Negan calling the men off him and ordering for Dr Amanda to be brought out to treat him. He flinched back as Negan stood over him.

 

“You think that was bad?” he sneered “I haven’t even started with you yet”

 

“Oh my God, what have you done to him?” Amanda dropped to her knees next to Daryl reaching into her bag, not even sure where to begin in her examination of his injuries.

 

“You’re sick” she snarled at Negan “You’ve gone too far this time. This is inhumane, you’re no better than an animal”

 

Behind her Daryl saw the gleam in Negan’s eye and wanted to tell her to shut up, but the gag meant all he could get out were unintelligible grunts, As she reached behind him, her fingers fumbling to undo the knotted rag he saw Dwight bring a man with a bag over his head towards Negan.

 

With a flourish Negan pulled the bag away from the bound man, revealing his face to Daryl and he recognised him instantly, just as Amanda pulled the gag from his mouth.

 

“Run!” he rasped urgently as she stared at him blankly.

 

“Run, hide, get the Hell outta here” he told her desperately as he stared at the familiar man in front of him.

 

“What are you talking about?” Amanda asked in confusion.

 

“Please” he begged “just run” but he knew it was already far too late.

 

Negan smiled down at him as he pulled Amanda to her feet, ignoring her protests as he spun her round to face him.

 

“What was it you said to me the other day?” he asked casually “I can’t kill you as you’re the only one with medical experience heret”

 

He flashed her a cocky smile as he nodded to the bound man next to him.

 

“Meet Harlan Carson from Hilltop” he grinned as he pulled his gun from his waistband.

 

“Dr Carson” he emphasised as he raised the gun.

 

“Looks like I don’t need you after all, doesn’t it?” Negan smiled again as he saw the realisation dawn in her eyes seconds before he pulled the trigger.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl learns the hard way not to defy Negan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the long delay in updating this story. Work has gone mad and I've been working 10 - 12 hours days, 7 days a week with an hour commute at each end and then working from home when I can (we actually ran out of food in the house as I had no chance to shop!) I also celebrated (?) a significant birthday and my wonderful hubby took me on a surprise trip to Rome. I had plans for this chapter but then, purely by coincidence, someone did what I'd planned to do in their story so I had to rethink. This chapter was intended to be part of the next one but I decided to split it, just to get something posted. Day off tomorrow, food shop done online, so no excuse not to spend the day writing.   
> Hope you like it, please let me know what you think.

Chapter 10

As Amanda’s lifeless body hit the ground in front of him, her unseeing eyes wide and staring, Daryl somehow managed to find his last reserve of strength.  With an agonised howl he lurched to his feet and threw himself at Negan, slamming shoulder first into the gloating man’s chest.  Caught off guard by the unexpected attack Negan stumbled back, landing on his butt with a furious grunt.

Hand still bound behind him Daryl kicked out wildly, managing to land a couple of hits to Negan’s side before he was roughly yanked back by several Saviours.  A silence had fallen over the yard and several men and women were trying to discreetly move away, not wanting to be in range when Negan’s fury erupted.

Daryl fought hard against the hands trying to force him back to his knees, no longer thinking straight as he twisted and kicked, only wanting to get back to the man in front of him.

A blinding pain shot through him as Dwight gripped his dislocated shoulder and wrenched it back violently and the men holding him took advantage of the distraction, finally forcing him down and holding him in place.

Daryl felt the men beside him drop to their knees as a shadow fell over them, the hand pressed on his uninjured shoulder trembling slightly as Negan towered above them.  The Saviours lowered their eyes but Daryl kept his head held high, his gaze a meeting furious dark expression.

“So…” Negan drawled softly   “You thought it would be a good idea to attack me, to knock me down and humiliate me in front of my men did you?”

“Would’ve done a whole lot more if my hands were loose” Daryl snarled as he tried to twist free from the restraining grip holding him down.

Negan sighed “Still fighting I see”  He walked over to Amanda’s body, nudging it gently with his foot.

“You know, I actually liked her.  Not many here had the balls to argue with me, but she did.  That’s why I gave her the courtesy of a quick death”  He squatted at her side, reaching out and closing her eyes gently before standing again.

“She got worse when you got here.  For some reason she objected to my treatment of your sorry ass, got a whole lot more vocal about things, started disobeying direct orders about handing out meds and food.  Got to the point I couldn’t let it slide anymore and had to do something about it”

He glanced at Daryl, a smirk on his face.

“I guess if you hadn’t been such a pathetic, weak pussy about a few minor injuries, if you’d just followed a few simple rules she wouldn’t be dead now.  I guess we all know that once again someone died because of you.  How many more people are you going to get killed before you learn?”  His grin widened as Daryl visibly flinched at his words and dropped his eyes, pleased to see they’d had exactly the effect he wanted on his prisoner.

He turned and glanced at Dr Carson, standing wide eyed and terrified behind him, before facing Daryl again.

“You best hope that pretty, pregnant widow doesn’t need any more medical help, better keep your fingers crossed that no one at Alexandria or Hilltop gets sick or has an accident being as we now have the only Doctor for miles”  

Negan smiled again,

“Be a shame if anything was to happen to that baby now, after she just lost her husband. Wonder what your friends would think if they knew it was because of you they don’t have a doctor any more”

Daryl shook his head.

“No, it aint on me” he muttered as he met Negan’s eye again  “I aint the sorry son of a bitch that killed her, I aint the one that took the Doc there.  That’s all down to you, you sick prick!”

The smile slipped from Negan’s face and he lunged forward, grabbing Daryl by the shirt and hurling him to his feet.  His left leg, injured in the motorcycle crash,  buckled beneath him and his dislocated shoulder screamed in protest at the abrupt movement.   Negan dragged him to the bench Mark had been pinned down on and slammed him violently against it.

“Get your lazy asses over here and hold him down” he demanded at the nearest men.

They hurried to obey and Daryl found himself on his back, pinned to the benchtop as he twisted and fought to get free.  The hunter couldn’t help the yell of agony as his bound hands were freed then  wrenched above his head and held down, his shoulder once again a blur of pain.

Negan paced the length of the bench, taking in every injury, every mark on the restrained  man still desperately fighting against those holding him down.

Finally he stopped pacing and stood at the end of the bench by Daryl’s feet, making sure he stayed just out of range of the flailing boots.

“You know…”  he started thoughtfully “in other circumstances you’re exactly the sort of man I’d want on my side.  However you’ve made it very clear you’re not a team player.  You’ve fought me continuously, forced me to kill someone I almost considered a friend, been responsible for the death of a mother and her young child and killed one of my loyal followers.  None of this can go unpunished”  Negan moved forward until he was standing near Daryl’s head, reaching down and brushing the long, matted hair from his cheek in a sinisterly tender movement.

“Take his boots, he’s not going to need them again” he ordered “then hold his legs down, I don’t want him thrashing around while he pays for what he’s done” 

Daryl felt the boots ripped from his feet and hands gripping his ankles, holding him down and unable to move.  From the corner of his eye he saw Negan reach into the fire for the still hot iron, gripping it firmly in his hand as he brought it closer and closer to Daryl’s face.  He tried to flinch away but his head was held in a vice like grip and he had nowhere to go.  He tried to breathe deep as he braced himself for the pain, tried to ready himself enough he would be able to withhold the screams as the flesh was melted from his face.  He could see the gleam of pleasure in Negan’s eye as he bought the iron towards his exposed cheek, could feel the heat from the metal as it inched nearer.  Suddenly with a laugh Negan pulled away.

“Got you!” he chortled “You damn near pissed yourself then, didn’t you?” He grinned.

“Don’t worry, the iron to the face is for those who rape, or those who touch what’s mine” Negan glanced at the door Amber had gone through earlier.

“And talking of touching what’s mine, I got a hot little number waiting in my bed so I need to finish this”

Still clutching the iron Negan moved to the end of the bench once more.  With his free hand he poked the tattered pants, dragging his fingers through the exposed skin of Daryl’s calf,  clawing at the damage caused by his sliding along the road after his second crash of the day.

“That looks painful” he commented, pretending not to notice the sharp intake of breath from his captive as he continued to torment him.

“We don’t want to risk it getting infected” he grinned as without warning he slammed the iron against Daryl’s leg. 

“We should cauterise it”

The pain was unbearable as the already damaged skin began to blister and Daryl could smell his own skin burning as Negan slammed the iron down for a second time.

“Maybe now you’ll think twice before you try kicking out at me again” he smirked as he held it in place for several seconds, allowing for the maximum damage.

Daryl bit down on the inside of his cheek as he tried to hold back on the whimper that threatened to escape.  When Negan pushed the cooling iron against his leg for the third time he could fight it no more.  An agonised cry ripped from him and he saw Negan smile in satisfaction.

“Finally” he commented as he let the iron drop to the ground. “If you’d done that at the start you’d have saved yourself so much trouble”

As Negan strode away, he glanced over his shoulder at the cowering Dr Carson.

“Patch him up as best you can and reset his shoulder, don’t waste any medication on the bastard, he don’t deserve it” he ordered.

The hands restraining him fell away, the men stepping back to give Harlan space to work.

The Hilltop Doctor tried to do what he had to as carefully as he could but without medication and painkillers it wasn’t long before  the pain got too much and Daryl found himself unable to fight it anymore and slipped into welcome unconsciousness.

When he woke again he was laying on the floor in a small, dark room.  His throbbing shoulder was reset and his arm held against his chest with a strap made from someone’s shirtsleeve.  The burns on his leg were covered with a makeshift bandage and pulsed with pain.  His head pounded and his whole body ached.  His lips were cracked and dry and his eyes swollen and half closed from the various blows he’d received.  He tried to sit up but his battered body refused to co-operate and he slumped back down.  The only light in the small room came from a frosted glass panel in the door but as he lay on the cold floor he began to make out the shape of shelving units around him and guessed he was in some kind of storage closet.  Carefully he tried again to sit, this time managing to pull himself up into an uncomfortable leaning position against one of the shelves.  With his unstrapped hand he reached up pulling a box from the nearest shelf, hoping to find something, anything, he could use as a weapon.  He lost his grip on the awkward box and it split open spilling its  contents.  He hadn’t been expecting guns and knives but the erasers and pencil sharpeners scattered around him caused him to groan in disappointment as he realised he was basically locked in the stationary storeroom.

A wave of despair swept over him as he let his head fall back against the wall. He’d blown his chance at escape and now Amanda was dead because of him and Dr Carson was a prisoner of the Saviours as a result.  He thought of Maggie and how sick she’d looked when he last saw her, just before she saw her beloved husband’s head bashed in.  He could only hope that the Doctor had been able to treat her before he was taken and that both her and her unborn child were well.  He couldn’t even bring himself to think of the alternative.  

Thoughts of his friends at Alexandria filled his head and he wondered how they were coping with Negan’s demands.  Thing’s had been hard before, food had already been short and now they were being forced to give half of everything to the Saviours.  Daryl cursed himself for his stupidity in making the deal with Hilltop, taking out Negan and his men in exchange for a bit of food and a damn cow.  How could he have been so dumb, all of this was his fault, he made the original deal with that Jesus asshole, it was because he let Dwight live that  Denise was killed, it was because of him Glenn, Michonne and Rosita were captured. 

He couldn’t stop the thoughts spiralling around his mind as he sat in the darkness before somehow falling into a restless, uncomfortable sleep.  The sound of the door opening jolted him awake and he flinched back as the dark figure approached.  As the slight figure got closer he realised it was Emma, the young woman from the canteen that had tried to help him.  She crouched in front of him keeping her head lowered as she placed a container of water and three cans next to him.

“Negan says make it last as it’s all you’re getting” she said softly as she reached out and offered him a chunk of hard, stale bread.  As Daryl took it from her he noticed the thick bandage wrapped around her hand.

“What happened?” he asked as he caught hold of her wrist.  Emma tried to pull away, still keeping her head down, her face hidden by her long hair.

“It’s nothing” she tried again to pull free but his grip involuntarily tightened, causing her to give a small gasp of pain.

“He hurt you ‘cause you helped me didn’t he?” Daryl asked her quietly, aware of the heavily armed man in the doorway watching the exchange. She nodded briefly.

“He said it was to teach me not to steal, that’s how he saw giving you the pain tablet in the water.  He used wire cutters to cut my little finger off, that’s his usual punishment for stealing”  She finally raised her head and even in the semi darkness of the little room the bruises on her face stood out.  One eye was black, her lip split and her right cheek bruised and cut.

“The beating was to knock any idea of helping any other prisoners out.  It’s my fault, I knew what he was capable of and I still defied him.  I got what I deserved”  Her voice was defeated and broken and Daryl felt the familiar feeling of guilt sweep over him, another innocent had suffered because of him.

“I’ll get out of here and I’ll kill that bastard before I go” he promised as he let go of her wrist and Emma backed towards the door.

“Stop fighting him” she told him “It’s for the best, no one ever gets away.  You know what happens to those that try.  Please, just stop fighting and accept you’re stuck here”

Daryl shook his head.

“I can’t” he lowered his gaze from her “Can’t let that prick break me”

Emma stopped in the doorway, giving him a long sad look.

“Then you’re going to die” she said softly as the armed man stepped forward and the door was slammed and locked, leaving him alone in the dark.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is a little short and was written in a hurry so please excuse any errors. Found this hard to write and would love to know what you think.  
> Thank you so much to all those who commented or left kudos on the last chapter, I really do appreciate it.
> 
> Thanks for reading

Chapter 11

From the small changes in the light through the glass panel in the door Daryl figured he’d  been locked alone in the small room for about a week.  The food and water Emma had left was gone and he was weak with hunger and dehydration, his abused body still wracked with pain. 

He’d held out as long as possible with the food, especially when he saw the labels on the three cans.  The faded picture of the dog and the declaration that eating this product regularly would give him a healthy, glossy coat left him in no doubt that Negan was once again playing his games and feeding him dog food.  The bread Emma had given him was stale, hard and mouldy and the only way he’d managed to eat it was to soak it in the tepid water she’d left. 

At first he ignored the cans, deciding that maybe it would be better if he just let himself starve to death but the image of Emma’s battered face haunted him and he knew he had to survive so he could carry out his promise to her to kill Negan.  After two days he’d given in and reluctantly used the ring pull to rip open the first can, wondering if the sharp edges of the lid could be used as a weapon. It had taken several attempts before he could make himself eat the foul smelling contents, gagging slightly as he forced himself to swallow the hard chunks of meat, the gravy cold and slimy as it slipped down his throat.

He gave his sore body a few days to recover then used the shelving units to pull himself slowly to his feet.  Cautiously he stretched his back, flinching as the battered, unused muscles reacted to the movement.  He removed the strap from his shoulder and experimentally raised his arm, forcing the reset shoulder to move.  It hurt but not as much as he expected.  He spent his time alone trying to regain his strength, stretching and exercising as best he could in the confined space.  Daryl had no idea how long he was going to be kept locked up, no idea what sick games Negan had planned for him next but he was determined to be as ready as possible for whatever was to come.  

He searched the shelves for anything that could be used as a weapon, finding nothing but damp, musty office supplies.  In a small box he finally found several 12 inch wooden rulers and spent hours using the rough brick wall as a file in an attempt to sharpen them enough to use as makeshift shanks.

When the door was finally opened he was totally unprepared for Dwight’s words as he grinned at him from the doorway.

“Get your stinking ass out here, you’re going home”

Keeping his face blank to hide his true feelings of relief and joy at the news Daryl rose slowly and followed Dwight into the yard.  He limped behind the scarred man, expecting Negan to appear at any time and reveal it was all just a cruel trick, that he wasn’t going home, that he was stuck there forever before unleashing more torment and torture on him.

Dwight lead him to a canvas sided truck where several heavily armed Saviours were already sitting on benches and he was forced to scramble into the back.  He was shoved roughly into the last available space and his arms were yanked above his head, his wrists bound to a metal rod running along the underside of the truck roof.

As he sat in the truck, keeping his head down and avoiding eye contact with anyone, Daryl began to let himself believe he was actually going home, that he was going to see his family again.

He heard Negan before he saw him, the man’s booming voice issuing orders as he instructed his men what to do when they arrived at Alexandria, telling them what to look out for and what to take and it wasn’t long before the arrogant leader was smirking up at him.

“Lucky for you, Rick’s been co-operating and coming through with the goods for us” he commented “I promised him I’d return you alive and to be honest I’ve got bored of trying to break you now”

Not giving Daryl the chance to reply Negan turned to Connor as he headed for his car.

“Let’s get this show on the road”

With Negan’s vehicle in the lead the three trucks rolled through the gates of the Sanctuary and Daryl took what he hoped was his last look at the walker surrounded factory.  The journey was slow and it wasn’t long before the men in the back with him became bored.  To pass the time they discussed the things they would like to do to the women of Alexandria, each one more depraved and disgusting than the last.

Daryl keep his eyes averted, doing his best to blank out the foul conversations going on around him.  The kick to his bandaged, still healing burned leg caught him by surprise and he jerked his head up, meeting the eyes of Donnie, the Saviour that had forced him to clean the pig enclosure in the barn.

“So which one’s yours then?” Donnie asked “Which one of those hotties you screwing?”

Daryl glared at him, not bothering to reply but Donnie persisted.

“I bet it’s the one with the dreads and the sword” he grinned “bet that bitch is a real firecracker in the bedroom” He glanced around, happy to be the center of attention “Wouldn’t mind showing that one a bit of sword action of my own, if you catch my drift” The others laughed, adding their own comments and Daryl hoped they’d go back to ignoring him but Donnie wasn’t finished.

“The pregnant one’s a mighty fine looking piece, wouldn’t blame you for slipping it to her on the side while hubby aint looking.  Maybe when that baby comes out it’s gonna be pure redneck, no sign of the Chinaman in it at all”

“He’s Korean!”  Daryl spat out before he could stop himself “and Maggie aint like that”

“Whatever” Donnie was becoming bored with the conversation “He’s dead, his brains a puddle on the ground, don’t really matter what he was does it?”

Daryl fought to bit back the retort, not wanting to do anything to jeopardise his return to Alexandria.

“Think it’s more likely the inbred asshole is screwing the leader, you know Rick the Dick?”  Donnie’s friend Gary suddenly piped up.

“You know what these damn Hillbilly’s are like, sleep with their own damn mothers.  Bet his Daddy liked to show him a good time when he was a kid, messed him up good and proper.  You give him a woman and he wouldn’t know what to do with it”

Donnie stared at him with narrowed eyes, a malicious grin spreading over his features.

“That true?” he asked “That how you got all them scars?  Daddy like to play hard did he?”

When Daryl didn’t reply, pointedly turning his head away and refusing to rise to the bait Donnie kicked out again,

“Asked you a question asshole” he demanded.

Daryl was saved from replying as the gates of Alexandria came into view.  It wasn’t long before the convoy of vehicles was passing through the entrance and making it’s way down the quiet streets.  At sight of the familiar buildings Daryl allowed himself a small sigh of relief.  He was home, everything would be okay now.

The truck stopped and the men poured from the back, fanning out and beginning to go through each house, taking what they wanted, leaving Daryl still bound.  He shifted impatiently, wanting nothing more than to see his family and finally be able to clean up and get out of the filthy rags he’d been forced to wear and back into his own clothes.

After several long minutes Dwight appeared, pulling a knife from his belt and  slicing through the cords binding the hunter.  At once Daryl slithered from the truck bed, almost falling in his haste to get away.  He made his way to the front of the truck, frowning when he saw Sasha and Father Gabriel turn away without saying a word.  He saw Tobin and Olivier and raised a hand in greeting.  Both stared at him for a long second, their expressions unreadable before they turned and walked away. Confused he made his way towards the sound of voices, clearly picking out Rick’s familiar tone as he spoke to Negan.

Negan saw him approaching and nudged Rick causing the constable to turn.  It was then Daryl noticed his friend was holding Lucille, the bat hanging limply at his side. Daryl knew this was just another of Negan’s power plays and that he would be getting a real kick out of making the Alexandria leader hold the weapon that had brutally killed one of his companions.

As he limped toward Rick he noticed Rosita in the doorway of the nearest house and saw her move in his direction, her eyes shining with unshed tears.  Before she’d taken more than a few steps Spencer appeared and caught her arm, pulling her back with a shake of his head. She turned away and Daryl was sure he heard a muffled sob as she allowed Spencer to pull her back inside, closing the door firmly behind them.

His steps slowed and a bad feeling came over him as he took in Rick’s impassive face.  There was no sign of relief or pleasure in seeing him, just a blank coldness as the former sheriff approached.

“You need to go.  We don’t want you here” Rick’s words cut deeper than any knife as Daryl stared in disbelief.

“Rick?” he started hesitantly “ What you talking about?”

“We’ve discussed it as a town and we’ve decided we don’t want you back.  Too many terrible things have happened, too many people have died because of you”  Rick straightened his back and met Daryl’s eyes.

“Glenn and Abe died because of you and now we don’t have a doctor because you couldn’t co-operate with Negan.  All you had to do was keep your head down for a couple of weeks and you could have been home but you just had to cause trouble”  Rick raised his voice slightly as he continued.

“All you’ve done recently is create problems, you made the deal with Hilltop that bought Negan onto us, you got Denise killed, you got Glenn, Michonne and Rosita captured.  We don’t want you here anymore.  I don’t want you here anymore”

As Daryl took a step toward him Rick raised Lucille.

“Just go, don’t let anyone else get hurt because of you, you’ve done enough damage already”  As he spoke he pushed Lucille into Daryl chest, shoving him back.

“Just get the hell out of here” he demanded.

Daryl swallowed hard, the pain of the rejection almost crushing him.  He swayed on his feet, unsure what to do next as Rick turned away from him, striding over to Michonne and starting a conversation with her as if Daryl was no longer there.

“Well now, that’s a turn up for the book isn’t it?” Negan’s voice was close to his ear, the amusement unmistakable.

“Looks like you’re stuck with us” he finished.

Daryl shook his head.

“I aint coming back with you assholes, I’ll go out on my own, won’t be the first time” he muttered, still feeling numb with shock at Rick’s words.

“You misunderstand”  Negan nodded to two of his men and they reached for Daryl “I wasn’t giving you a choice in the matter”  The men grabbed his arms and yanked him back towards the truck.

“String him back up in there then finish loading up” he ordered.  As they began to pull him away Daryl gave a despairing glance over his shoulder.  Rick and Michonne were both watching, neither making a move to help as he fought and twisted to free himself.  As one they both turned and walked away without a backward glance.  

At that moment the fight went out of Daryl and he let himself go limp.  He didn’t resist as he was thrown into the truck and his hands bound above him once more.  He stayed silent as the men in the back with him spent the entire return journey goading him about how his friends had finally realised what had been true all along, that he was a good for nothing, redneck waste of space.  

As the gates of the Sanctuary closed behind them Daryl finally accepted that his father and Merle had been right all along, nobody was going to care about him, nobody was going to do anything for him, people were only going to keep him around while he could do something for them and once he was no longer useful they would discard him like the garbage he was.

He realised he was on his own now and he would do what it took to survive.  The trucks pulled up in front of the large storage warehouse, his hands were freed and he was ordered to help the other prisoners unload the stolen supplies.  As they worked Negan approached and the workers knelt, lowering their heads in respect.

As Negan paused by him, Daryl took a deep breathe and slowly, reluctantly sank to one knee in front of the grinning, smug leader.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me for this, the next chapter will be up as soon as possible and at least some of it will be Rick's side of the story.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG - Still recovering from that Premier!!
> 
> A little short but I wanted to get Rick's side of the last chapter posted. For this story comic book Connor is basically Simon from the TV show.  
> Thanks to everyone for the comments and kudos on the previous chapters, I really appreciate it.

Chapter 12

Rick watched as the convoy of vehicles made its way through the streets of Alexandria, his heart pounding in his chest at what he knew he had to do.

“I can’t go through with it” he turned to Michonne, an edge of panic in his voice “I can’t do this to him”

The normally stoic warrior woman caught his hand in a gesture of support.

“You have to” she told him softly “You’ve no choice.  None of us do” she finished bitterly as she turned to watch Negan pull himself from his car and swagger towards them.

“We all set?” he asked as he swung Lucille over his shoulder.

“Please, don’t do this.  There must be some other way” Rick tried to bargain with the leather clad madman in front of him.

“Oh there is another way”  Negan turned to Connor, at his side as ever.

“Go fetch the rugrat that belongs to my man Rick here, We got some dead ones at home can’t wait to meet that sweet little snack.  While you’re at it bring that one eyed kid of his as well”

Negan flashed Rick a chilling smile. 

“Good looking kid like that’ll have no trouble finding plenty of new friends, if you know what I mean!”  he sneered, his implication obvious.  

As Rick moved to stop Connor approaching his home and his children Negan shoved Lucille into his chest, pushing him back from his right hand man.

“Now Rick, you don’t want to try anything clever do you?” he asked as he turned to Connor once more.

“Once you’ve got the brats, get the boys and round up the first 20 folk you see, bring them here then gun the lot of them down”

As Michonne began to protest Negan flashed her a grin.

“Don’t get those panties of yours in a twist now darlin’.  All Ricky boy has to do to stop that  happening is do what we arranged on my last visit”  He lowered Lucille from Rick’s chest, swinging her back over his shoulder. 

“All he has to do is tell that redneck piece of shit he aint welcome here anymore, that you don’t want him around cause he’s nothing but trouble and gets people killed” 

“Why?” Rick blurted out “You promised you’d return him to us, why’re you doing this?”

Negan’s eyes narrowed as he glared at Rick.

“He killed one of my men, made me kill my doctor.  He left me no choice but to discipline a good worker that insisted on disobeying me to help him”  Negan flashed that smile again, the one that made Rick’s fists clench and made him struggle to fight the urge to smash it from the man’s face. 

“Besides I never had someone I can’t break before, never known someone take so much and not give in.  I’m kind of impressed if I’m honest” Negan shook his head as he turned to Connor once more.

“You ever see anyone take so many beatings and still get up like that bastard does?” he asked casually.

“No Boss, never” Connor replied “Thought maybe after you knocked his shoulder out he’d give up but he got right up and knocked you on your ass” Connor laughed as Negan’s expression darkened at the memory “Oh come on, even you were impressed with that and he paid for it real well didn’t he?” he finished, knowing he was probably the only man alive who could get away with talking to Negan like that.

The Saviours leader gave a low chortle.

“Had to burn him three times but we finally made him scream”   Negan ignored the horrified looks Rick and Michonne exchanged as they got an idea of what Daryl had been through at the Saviours hands as the leader faced the couple.

“So, last chance, what’s it to be? Your kids and the good folks of Alexandria or that good for nothing I got stashed in my truck”

Helplessly Rick lowered his head, he knew he had no choice but what he was about to do was something he would never be able to forgive himself for.  Michonne moved closer, her light touch on his arm a subtle show of support.

“I’ll tell him what you said”  The former sheriff couldn’t bring himself to look at the man in front of him as he ground the words out, knowing he was condemning his closest friend to more pain and torture before he probably died a lonely, painful death away from all who cared about him.

Negan grinned and leaned a little closer.

“What was that?” he asked innocently “Not sure I caught what you said”

Rick straightened his back and met Negan’s gaze full on.

“I said I’ll do what you want, but sometime soon I will make you pay for everything you’ve done to this community and the people I care about.  You’ll regret ever messing with us”  

Even as he said the words Rick knew how weak and unthreatening he sounded so he wasn’t surprised when Negan and Connor exchanged amused looks before both laughed out loud.

“That’s fighting talk from a man about to screw his friend over, then give me half of everything his town owns.  Don’t think I need to be sleeping with one eye open just yet”  His laughter stopped and his tone became ominous as he leaned closer to Rick, his face just inches from the shorter man.

“What you also got to remember is I still have your friend and he won’t die for a while if I can help it. If you misbehave in anyway he’ll be the one paying the price and I’ll make sure he knows he’s suffering because of your actions.  Maybe you need to just think about that before you try anything too rash”

Negan stepped back and bellowed for Dwight, ordering him to bring Daryl from the truck.  As the scarred face man hurried to obey Negan thrust Lucille into Rick’s hands.

“Here, hold my girl for me”  he insisted “She may be awesome but she does get heavy after a while”  Reluctantly Rick took the bat, wondering how it would feel to bring it smashing down on Negan’s head, killing him in the most satisfying way he could imagine.

“Aint that the most pathetic sight you ever seen?” Negan’s sneer and aggressive nudge to his arm pulled him from his murderous thoughts and Rick turned to see Daryl limping towards them.

It took every bit of willpower he possessed not to react at the sight of Daryl struggling barefoot along the street.  He was no longer clad in his own clothes, instead wearing a stained, ripped shirt and tattered sweatpants. The hunter had never been a big man but now he was thinner than Rick had ever seen him.  What could be seen of his face through the cuts, bruises and dirt was gaunt, his cheekbones prominent.  His once piercing eyes were dull but Rick could still see the doubt and fear in them as Sasha and Father Gabriel turned away and Spencer hurried a tearful Rosita back into the nearest house.  The abrasions and bruises down his side were clearly visible through the tears in his shirt, the partially healed flesh, red and tender looking and he favoured one arm, cradling it to his chest as he hesitantly approached.  

Rick heard Michonne give a sharp intake of breath behind him and blanked her out.  He knew he had to stay strong and do this to save his children and the rest of the townsfolk.  He almost caved when he saw the ripped pants leg and the grubby bandages encircling Daryl’s leg, the wound underneath clearly not healing well by the blood and other unidentifiable fluids soaking through the wrappings.

Rick forced himself to look straight at the man he was about to betray in the most hurtful way possible.

“You need to go.  We don’t want you here”  He forced the words out watching as every one cut to the bone.

“Rick?” Daryl asked, the hurt in his eyes almost Ricks undoing  “ What you talking about?”

“We’ve discussed it as a town and we’ve decided we don’t want you back.  Too many terrible things have happened, too many people have died because of you. Glenn and Abe died because of you and now we don’t have a doctor because you couldn’t co-operate with Negan.  All you had to do was keep your head down for a couple of weeks and you could have been home but you just had to cause trouble”  Rick raised his voice to cover the tremor he couldn’t stop as he made himself continue.

“All you’ve done recently is create problems, you made the deal with Hilltop that bought Negan onto us, you got Denise killed, you got Glenn, Michonne and Rosita captured.  We don’t want you here anymore”  He hesitated  before driving the final nail in the coffin.

“I don’t want you here anymore”

Daryl took a step closer and he raised Lucille, pushing her into Daryl’s chest, keeping him back.

“Just go, don’t let anyone else get hurt because of you, you’ve done enough damage already. Just get the hell out of here” he demanded.

Unable to look at the broken man in front of him anymore Rick turned abruptly, stumbling back to Michonne’s side.  He heard Negan’s mocking laugh as he gave the order for Daryl to be returned to the truck and fought against every instinct screaming inside him to help his brother.  

At the sound of a scuffle the couple turned instinctively.  Seeing Daryl so badly hurt but still fighting in the grip of two Saviours, desperately trying to free himself was more than Michonne could bear and she fought to hold back a choked sob.  Rick swallowed hard  at the sound and the two of them turned abruptly away, both knowing they were close to losing control.  Briskly, without a backwards glance they strode away, neither seeing as Daryl stopped fighting and allowed himself to be dragged away.

As soon as they were out of sight Rick let Lucille slip from his fingers as he sank to his knees, his head bowed, Michonne sliding down next to him and wrapping her arms around his chest.  

The two clung together for a moment until Negan found them.

“Touching” he sneered as he scooped his bat from the pavement, checking her over for  damage.

“Next time I tell you to hold Lucille you best treat her like a lady and not drop her in the dirt” he snarled  “She don’t like to get all dusty, gets her all pissed off and then she wants to hurt somebody.  We all know who that somebody’s likely to be don’t we?”

“We got everything we came for, so we’ll be off now” Satisfied with Lucille’s condition Negan sauntered off towards his car,

“See you same time next week”  

Within minutes the convoy was pulling through the gates and Rick caught a last look at Daryl, hands bound above his head and eyes downcast, as the truck accelerated away.

“What have we done?” he whispered “what the Hell have we just done?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr Carsen helps Daryl get a few days respite from Negan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the kudos, comments and bookmarks on this work so far and I'm so sorry once again for the delay in posting, damn real life for getting in the way. This need to earn a living is a real drag!

Chapter 13

Daryl drew his knees to his chest as he huddled against the wall of the small room he was once again locked in.  Despite reluctantly kneeling for Negan the man had decided he still hadn’t learned his lesson and ordered a few of his men to ‘knock some respect into his dumb, hick brain’  It wasn’t the worse beating he’d had since he’d been brought to the Saviours compound but it still left him bruised and aching as they’d manhandled him down familiar corridors and thrown him, unresisting, into the dark musty room leaving him alone once more.

At first he stayed where he landed in a crumpled heap on the floor, no longer having the strength or will to even attempt to rise.  His mind kept replaying Rick’s words over and over.

“Too many terrible things have happened….”

“too many people have died……..” 

“Glenn and Abe died……”

“..... because of you”

He knew every word was true, had known it all along but hearing it from Rick’s mouth hurt more than he could have imagined.  He thought of Sasha, Father Gabriel and the others, the looks on their faces as they turned their backs on him burnt into his memory.  He’d seen the tears in Rosita’s eyes as Spencer had pulled her back into the house but didn’t kid himself they were for him.  He knew the woman was still grieving for Abe and Glenn, knew the tears for for them.

Finally he dragged himself into a corner, drawing his knees up and wrapping his arms around his legs as he fought to control the despair.  Everything hurt and he relished the pain, believing it was what he deserved.  His father had told him throughout his childhood he was a useless, waste of space that would amount to nothing and those cruel words had stuck with him, eroding any self worth he may have had.  The last few years, with Rick and the others had made him begin to think he could be something, that there were people who would love and respect him as he was and not see him as just a redneck piece of shit and the thought he had failed them weighed heavily on him.

Merle had told him repeatedly the group just wanted him for what he could do for them and that they would drop him as soon as they had no further need for him.  He’d argued it, got into fights with his volatile older brother over it but now he knew Merle had been right all along.

“Aint nobody gonna care about you like I do” 

Merle words echoed in his head and he found himself missing his brother more than he thought possible.  A hard lump began to form in his chest and he felt the pick of tears behind his eyes.  He forced them back, allowing the anger in.

He was angry with Merle for leaving him the way he had, angry with Rick for abandoning him, angry with Negan for everything he’d done but most of all he was angry with himself for daring to believe he could be something better than he really was.  

He shifted his body, trying to find a more comfortable position and pain flared through his damaged ribs, making him hiss out loud.

“You got those people killed, you’re getting what you deserved” for the first time in years he heard his father’s rough voice.

“That babe’s gonna grow up without a daddy cause of you” the voice refused to stop “that pretty little gal’s all alone now.  You didn’t save her sister, you didn’t stop that asshole killing her daddy and now you got her husband killed.  Aint no surprise they don’t want your sorry ass back there”  

The voice in his head grew harsher “ You’re a screw up even for a Dixon, can’t get nothing right.  That dick out there, he knows what you are, he knows what you deserve and I hope he makes you pay for what you done”

Dary shook his head, trying to clear it.

“Go ‘way” he mumbled “you aint here, you son of a bitch.  Leave me be”

A hard kick to his hip bought his confused mind back into focus and he raised his head listlessly to see Negan looming over him.

“Oh, I’m right here and I’m going nowhere” the man laughed as he held out a large jug of water.

“Take it!” he demanded as he shoved it in Daryl’s face.  As much as he wanted to refuse the water and spit in Negan’s face Daryl knew he needed it to survive.  He was going to get through whatever Negan threw at him and he was going to kill him, even if it cost him his own life.  He was going to do what it took to make sure that Maggie and Glenn’s child had the best chance in life and that meant Negan had to die.

His hand shook as he took the offered jug and raised it to his mouth, taking a long swig, gulping it down without thinking.  Negan’s  smile widened and Daryl realised his mistake too late as the sharp taste of salt filled his mouth.  The tainted water hit his empty stomach and it rebelled instantly.  He barely managed to lurch to the side before he was retching painfully, his body spasming as it rejected the few mouthfuls he’d swallowed.  It was several long moments before he could control the shudders that ran through him, everyone causing agony in his abused body.  He rocked back onto his knees, scrubbing at his dry mouth with the back of his hand as Negan’s laughter echoed through the tiny room.

“My bad” he chuckled “probably should have mentioned it was for cleaning your wounds, not drinking”

Without warning his hand shot out and gripped Daryl by the hair, forcing his head back painfully as he towered over him.

“Think it’s time we set you to work again” he commented.  Daryl tried unsuccessfully to scramble to his feet as Negan yanked him towards the door, the man’s fingers still entangled in his hair as he dragged him along.

A final violent shove had Daryl landing in a heap in the corridor, his face just inches from two pairs of booted feet.

“ I do believe there’s a barn needs mucking out again” Negan sneered as Daryl was hurled roughly to his feet and he found himself in Donnie and Gary’s unrelenting grip.

“Make sure he pays special attention to the livestock” Negan strode off leaving the two men grinning at each other.

“Oh man this is gonna be good” Donnie muttered as they forced Daryl to move.

The barn smelt as bad as he remembered as he was shoved inside.  Donnie prodded him in the back, hard enough to make him stumble.

“Move your ass” he demanded as he and Gary maneuvered the hunter towards the pig pen once more.  As they drew closer Daryl could hear the frantic snorts and grunts, not quite loud enough to drown out the sounds of flesh tearing and bones breaking.

His steps faltered and he found himself unable to approach the enclosure, not wanting to see inside.  Gary gripped the back of his neck and shoved him forward, slamming him against the edge of the pen.

“Take a good look, shithead”  Donnie grabbed his jaw, forcing him to look at what was happening inside the small enclosure.

The pigs were scrambling over each other in their hurry to get to what was left of the mutilated figure, snouts blood soaked as they feasted on the body beneath them.  As Daryl watched in disgust the largest pig pulled away, dragging a severed arm with it.  The sight of the slender hand with it’s bandaged little finger tore a cry of anguish from Daryl’s throat.  As the rest of the pigs continued to tear what was left of Emma apart his legs buckled and he sank to the ground.  The two men let him fall, laughing as he fought to breath and struggled to hold back the waves of nausea that swept over him. 

“They always go for the soft bits first” Gary said conversationally ”ripped her throat out first, then went for her chest and stomach”

“She was a skinny bitch, not more than a mouthful there” Donnie added callously “but it’s still a pity to lose one of the women. I guess she was pretty enough I wouldn’t have kicked her out of bed”

Neither were expecting the injured prisoner to move as fast as he did which is how Daryl managed to land a heavy punch on Gary’s jaw, knocking him back and stunning him for several seconds.  His second punch slammed into Donnie’s nose and he fell back against the enclosure wall.  Daryl lashed out again, the impact spinning Donnie round so he was off balance, the top half of his body hanging precariously over the enclosure.  As Gary reached for him Daryl evaded his grip long enough to grab Donnie’s legs and with one final burst of strength flipped him into the enclosure.

He just had time to see the animals charge the disorientated man and hear his first scream before something heavy slammed into the back of his head and he went down hard.  He tried to dodge as Gary’s boot came down but he was too slow.  The boot caught the side of his head and he cried out in pain as unconsciousness took him yet again.

When he came round again he was lying on the ground in the courtyard, his arms bound tightly behind him, the nylon ropes biting painfully into his wrists.  He could feel the dried blood crusting  in his hair and on his face, his skin tight and uncomfortable.  He tried to lick at his cracked lips but his mouth was agonisingly dry, the taste of salt still on his tongue.

Hands gripped him under the arms and hurled him up, not giving him time to get his feet beneath him as he was dragged over the rough paved surface, before being thrown down again, this time at Negan’s feet.

As he glanced up Daryl couldn’t help the small smirk at the sight of Gary, lurking behind his leader, his lip split and his jaw bruised.  Anger flared in the man’s eyes as he saw the smirk and he took a few steps toward the restrained captive.

“Now Gary, hold on”  Negan’s voice was reasonable as he held a hand up, stopping him in his tracks.

“I get you’re pissed but we discussed this didn’t we?”

“Yes Boss” Gary lowered his gaze from Negan and he backed away.

“I really cannot decide if you are incredibly brave or incredibly stupid”  Negan squatted so he was face to face with Daryl.

“Just when I think you’ve learned your place you go and do something like this” he indicated behind him at the battered Gary.

“One man beaten and one in the infirmary, several chunks of him missing and unlikely to survive”  Negan sighed as he rose.

“Much as I admire your stubbornness to be broken I can’t let something like this pass.  What kind of message would it send if I allowed you to get away with what you did?”  As he spoke Negan swung Lucille from her place across his shoulder, allowing her to drop to his side as he paced in front of his bound captive.

“You know, I really didn’t want to feed Emma to the pigs, I thought by taking her finger and having a couple of my men teach her a lesson I’d be over her betrayal but I found I wasn’t.    She was surprisingly brave about the whole thing, didn’t scream or cry as I had Gary and Donnie tie her up and throw her in.  She did well to last as long as she did, most only survive a few minutes, she lasted a lot longer before she bled out.  Guess I underestimated how tough she was”

Negan paused in his monologue, glancing at Daryl as he suddenly slumped forward, too exhausted to hold himself up any longer.

“I’m sorry, am I boring you?” he asked calmly.  “Is it too much to ask you to stay awake while I talk to you?”

At his order two men seized Daryl pulling him to his feet, their firm grip the only thing keeping him upright as he hung limply between them.

Negan shoved Lucille under his jaw, the sharp barbs piercing his skin as his head was forced up.

“Jeez, You look like shit” Negan commented.

“Maybe we should freshen him up a bit, help him pay attention” 

Daryl was dragged over to one of the buildings, his feet dragging as he tried and failed to keep up with his captors.  He was pinned against a large plastic barrel full of rainwater and his heart sank as he figured out what was coming next.  He managed to plant his feet firmly into the ground and tried desperately to push himself away but the hold on his arms was too strong.

“Don’t” he choked, angry with himself at the pleading tone in his voice as Negan’s hand tangled in his hair and forced his head forward.

He tried to take a deep breath before his face was submerged but the shock of the cold water made him gasp and it was lost.  He thrashed frantically, trying to kick out, twisting his head from side to side in a desperate attempt to break free from the unforgiving hand but it was no good.  He began to choke, the water filling his throat and flooding his lungs and his vision began to dim.  Just as he was on the verge of passing out his head was wrenched back and he could breath again.  

Negan watched impassively as the man in front of him choked and gasped for air, coughing up mouthfuls of water as he fought to clear his lungs.  He waited until the worst of the coughing had subsided then, without hesitation, repeated the action. 

“Maybe now you’ll stay awake” he purred as he yanked Daryl’s head up again this time not waiting for the coughing and gagging to finish before he forced him forward again.  Sadistically he held the hunter’s head under the water until his body went limp before letting the prone form slump to the ground.

“Get up, you sorry sack of shit!” he exclaimed as he drove his booted foot hard into Daryl’s stomach.  When he received no response he did it again and again until finally, with a choked moan Daryl’s body spasmed and he retched up several mouthfuls of water, coughing and gagging as he curled into a protective ball trying to protect his already damaged ribs and chest.

Negan stood over him, watching as he fought to draw breath, every movement feeling like a hot poker was being driven into his lungs.

“Get Doc Carson to check him out, don’t want  him dying from a punctured lung just yet” 

With a dismissive wave of his hand Negan strode off, Simon and Dwight trailing dutifully behind him as Daryl was hurled to the infirmary.

Harlan Carson jumped as the door to the medical room was slammed open and a clearly injured man was thrown in.  He recognised him at once as Daryl, the man from Alexandria and moved to help him.  As the two Saviours watched the Doctor struggled to get him to his feet and over to the bed.  He helped him sit and eased him back, concerned by the shallow wheezing and clammy feel to his skin as he began his examination.  

Daryl tensed as he felt the Doctor’s hands slip under his shirt and begin to move over his chest, his cool fingers pushing and probing against his flesh.

“I’m sorry”  Dr Carson muttered “It will be too painful to remove your shirt, this way is easier” He paused his movements as the man flinched and gave a shudder of pain, a small groan escaping his lips.

“At least two broken ribs” he muttered, “need to strap them up”  He finished his assessment and turned to the guards.

“This man needs to stay here for at least the next few days.  He’s malnourished and dehydrated, several of his wounds are infected and he needs time for his ribs to heal to prevent further damage.  I’m going to put him on an intravenous drip and start a course of antibiotics”  The men began to protest but Carson cut them off.

“If I don’t he’ll probably be dead by the end of the week.  I’m sure that’s not what Negan wants”  He turned his back on them and began setting up the equipment he needed to treat his patient.

The men argued amongst themselves, fighting over which one was going to inform Negan of the news.  Finally one stormed off, leaving the other to keep watch.  Moment later he was back, looking relieved to still be alive.

“Negan says he can stay and that you’re to do what you need to keep him alive but he says you’re responsible for him.  He misbehaves or escapes and it’s your head on the block” he informed the medic before both of them left.

As soon as they were out of sight Daryl gripped  Carson’s arm.

“Maggie?” he rasped “and the kid?”

Carson flashed him a small smile.

“Mother and child are both doing well all things considered.  It was just a small infection, a few pills and a couple of days best rest and she was fine.  Well, physically fine at least” 

The Doctor glanced at the door cautiously.

“You do have a couple of cracked ribs but I don’t think there’s any broken ones.  Somehow your wounds aren’t infected but I figured you could do with a few days break from that asshole and his friends.  We’ll get you fed up to get some of your strength back so you have half a chance of getting out of here”

Daryl shook his head.

“Got no place to go, aint no point you risking yourself for me” he muttered “don’t want anyone else hurt cause of me”

Harlan patted his shoulder as he handed him a glass of clear, cool fresh water.

“That’s my problem not yours, you just concentrate on getting better and maybe one day you can get both of us out of here”

The next few days passed quickly and without incident.  Through Dwight, when he delivered food to the infirmary, they learned Negan was out visiting the outposts once more before heading to several of the communities to collect what he considered his due and that he would be away for several days.

With Carson’s help Daryl’s body began to recover from the weeks of abuse he’d suffered.  
Regular food and drink  aided the healing process and he felt better than he had in a long time.

Four days after Daryl had been admitted Negan returned, strutting into the medical room with his usual shit eating grin.

“Miss me?” he asked

“You’re looking a whole lot better than last time I saw you” he commented as he studied Daryl.

“Think it’s about time you got cleaned up”  Despite Carson’s protests Daryl was escorted from the room, Dwight leading the way down several corridor before opening a door and stepping to one side.

“Get in there and take a shower, clean yourself up.  There’s fresh clothes on the counter, put them on when you’re done” he ordered.

Instinctively Daryl wanted to tell him to go screw himself but a hot shower and clean clothes suddenly sounded more appealing than he thought possible.  He pushed past the scar faced man, deliberately shoulder barging him on the way through the door, taking a small amount of pleasure from the grunt of pain he caused.

The second the door closed behind him he was searching for an escape route.  The only window was locked, heavy metal bars welded across the outside and he realised with disappointment there was no way out. 

Watching the door the whole time he stripped out of the disgusting shirt and sweatpants and stepped under the weak flow of warm water. The water felt good against his filthy skin, sluicing away the dirt and dried blood and easing the remaining aches and pains. 

He’d barely dried off and redressed when the door was flung open and Negan stood framed in the doorway, two armed men lurking behind him.

He eyed Daryl silently for a moment then stepped back into the corridor.

“Walk with me” he ordered, his tone making it clear Daryl had no say in the matter.

Warily the hunter fell into step beside Negan, all the time keeping an eye on the two sniggering men who walked several paces behind them.  He half listened to the man ramble on about the chores of being a leader and how he hated having to punish those who disobeyed him but he believed in rewarding those who served him well.

As Daryl walked he scanned the surrounding area, trying to note where the exits were and if they were guarded, wanting to be ready if the chance to escape ever presented itself.

He was wondering if Negan ever shut up as he finished a drawn out tale of someone called Sam saving his life with ‘the best damn bit of knife throwing he’d ever seen’ and how he’d told the asshole to pick whatever reward they wanted when they stopped outside a closed door.

As Negan pounded on the door his mocking words finally caught Daryl’s full attention and sent a chill down his spine.

“Imagine my surprise when that reward turned out to be your rebellious ass”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day off today so I'm working on the next chapter and hating myself as I write it, I really don't know where this side of me comes from. I'm a nice person who loves animals and helps old ladies across the road. I wish I knew what it is about this show that turns me into such a sadist!!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the huge delay in posting this chapter, work commitments, life in general and self doubt have made it difficult to finish this one. I realise it's a bit short but it needed to end where it did to set up the next part of the story. I kind of regret going this way now but couldn't think of a way to get out of it so decided to continue and hopefully you'll be gentle with me, even if you hate it.
> 
> I guess I should put a trigger warning here for rape/non con and please note change of tags
> 
> SPOILERS FOR THIS CHAPTER AHEAD
> 
> This chapter came about after a conversation with my daughter after she had a drunken argument with her friend. The friend was insistent that a woman couldn't rape a man as a man had to react in a certain way for sex to happen. She couldn't/wouldn't understand that just because a man's body shows arousal it means he wants sex. In her opinion arousal meant consent and could never be just an uncontrollable reaction. This idea stuck with me and I wondered how common this situation was and, sadly, it's apparently more common than you would expect. I then began to wonder how a man would feel afterwards and assumed it would be the same as a woman after such a horrendous experience, shame, guilt, anger, a feeling that they were to blame in some way (never ever true, obviously there is never a circumstance when the victim is to blame, this unacceptable, terrible act is always on the attacker) I've kept the details sketchy on purpose, I'm not trying to glorify the actual attack, this is more about the aftermath and how Daryl copes with it (or doesn't)  
> Comments are more than welcome, both good and bad as everyone is entitled to their opinion just please don't be offensive as I've had in the past on another well known FF site.  
> Thanks for taking the time to read this monologue note and I hope you like this chapter.

Chapter 14

The door slamming behind him was a welcome sound, as was the darkness of the small room he now accepted as his home. Numbly Daryl stumbled to the corner and slid down the wall, drawing his knees up as he tried to make himself as small as possible.

 

He tried to force his mind to stop replaying the last few hours but it refused to co-operate, the unwanted memories playing like a movie in his head.

 

“Imagine my surprise when that reward turned out to be your rebellious ass”

 

At the thought of Negan’s words he let out a whimper, no longer concerned with how weak it sounded as his mind filled with images of what had happened.

 

He saw Negan pounding on the door and it opening to reveal a room with nothing more than a small desk and a bed. He remembered trying to make a run for it and being restrained by the two thugs, broad grins on their faces as they forced him into the small room. There was a brief moment of relief when he realised that the mysterious knife throwing Sam was actually Samantha, a not unattractive woman in her thirties, not the rough male biker type he been expecting. The relief was short lived as he saw the way she looked him over, her eyes hungry and predatory.

 

His words heavy with threat Negan had told him to make sure he showed Sam a good time and did whatever she wanted, informing her he was leaving the two men outside as a precaution. He left the room then, his parting shot hanging in the air as the door slammed behind him.

 

“You kids have fun now”

 

After that it all became a bit of a blur, Daryl knew he tried and failed to escape, the woman was stronger than she looked, her knife skills every bit as good as Negan had stated. At the sounds of the struggle the two men stationed outside the door had been more than eager to dash in and help her get what she wanted.

 

Unconsciously he rubbed at his chafed and still bleeding wrists as a shudder ran through his body. He could still feel her hands on him as he lay helpless, arms secured to the bed frame as Sam straddled him, taking what she wanted despite his protests and struggles.

 

Shame washed over him as he thought of his body’s betrayal. Starved of affection and intimacy for so long he’d been unable to prevent himself responding to her unwanted touch, despite his best efforts not to. She’d made the most of the situation, seeking her release with no regard for his needs. Once she was finished she swung herself from the bed, leaving him feeling dirty, abused and somehow unsatisfied. As she pulled her robe around her body she’d noticed the situation.

 

“Oh honey, it would have been so much better for both of us if you’d just cooperated from the start” she cooed, a cruel smile playing over her lips as she approached the bed, reaching for him once more.

 

Her smile had widened then turned to mocking laughter as he’d tried to curl away from her outstretched hand, tried to prevent her touching him again but to no avail.

 

“It would be pretty mean of me to leave you like that though wouldn’t it?” 

 

Once she’d finished he’d thought his humiliation couldn’t get any worse but he’d been wrong. Negan had barged in while he was still exposed and vulnerable, standing at the side of the bed and staring down at him, head cocked thoughtfully to one side.

 

“You have a good time Sam?” he’d asked, pleased when she nodded.

 

“Maybe we should just leave him like this, available for anyone wants to use him” Negan had turned to the woman.

 

“What do you say?”

 

She’d shrugged.

 

“Whatever, but can you take him somewhere else, I need to sleep in that bed” 

 

Negan had given a roar of laughter and ordered Daryl untied. He was forced back into the filthy sweatshirt and pants and once again left barefoot before being shoved along the corridors to his small, cold room.

 

As they pushed him along the men had taunted him, laughing, calling him Sam’s little bitch, telling him he was a pussy for allowing a woman to take control the way she had, saying he was an embarrassment to real men and maybe he would be better off with Negan’s wives and the other womenfolk. He’d not responded, already withdrawing into himself, his mind and body shutting down, unable to cope with what had happened. He was only vaguely aware of their cruel laughter as the door was slammed and locked behind him, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

 

For the first time he was glad Merle was no longer around, he knew he would never have been able to face his brother again. What had happened just proved his older brother and father had been right all along, he was weak, a useless pussy, a disgrace to the Dixon name, unable to even fight off the unwelcome advances of a woman.

 

He lurched sideways, violently throwing up the merge contents of his stomach, glancing longingly at the empty water bottle, crushed on the floor at his side. His mouth was parched but more than anything he wanted a shower in the hottest water he could bear, anything to cleanse his skin from the filthy feeling of Sam’s unwanted, invasive touch. 

 

A choked laugh forced it’s way past his lips as he thought how delighted Carol would be to hear that, she’d spent weeks at Alexandria trying to convince him to shower and change his clothes more regularly and at the thought of the woman he considered his closest friend the laugh suddenly became a sob he couldn’t hold back. He found himself wondering why he hadn’t seen Carol at Alexandria on the day Rick rejected him, did she hate him so much now that she couldn’t bring herself to even look at him or was her absence something far worse? She hadn’t been in the line up in the forest that night for which he’d been eternally grateful but he knew she wouldn’t just stand by and let Negan take their supplies. A cold, dark feeling spread over him as he imagined her standing up to Negan and paying the ultimate price. His body began to shake as he imagined her lifeless corpse laying in a pool of it’s own blood, her head caved in by the psychopathic leader of the Saviers. Still laying on his side he curled his legs to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. It took several long moments before he realised the awful keening sound that filled the room was coming from him.

 

Negan stood with Connor in the corridor, a smile on his face as he listened to the agonised sounds from the other side of the locked door.

 

“Huh, who’d of thought it take getting screwed by a good looking woman to finally break the bastard” he commented.

 

“Course now he’s broken he’ll be no fun to play with anymore” Negan’s smile widened as an idea struck him .

“Send a man to find Jimmy at outpost 3, tell him to bring his little friends and meet us at the usual place in two days. I got an idea for one last game we can have with this asshole”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who commented and left kudos on the last chapter, I really appreciate it. I'm hoping to start work on the next chapter as soon as possible and things may be starting to look up for Daryl very soon.

Chapter 15

 

When they came for him Daryl allowed the men to pull him to his feet and drag him outside to where Negan was waiting by a convoy of three vehicles. He squinted in the bright, winter sun as his eyes adjusted to the light once more. They’d left him alone in his prison for the last few days with no food or water and all fight was long gone. The only hope he had now was that Negan would finally kill him and put an end to his pathetic life. He admitted to himself that he still missed his family, even after Rick’s betrayal and without them he saw no reason in carrying on.

 

To his surprise instead of being taken directly to Negan he was shoved over to a small table and forced to sit. A man in similar clothes to his, this time with the letter F sprayed onto his chest, bought over a tray containing a jug of iced water, a glass and a plate of meat and vegetables setting it down in front of him.

 

“Eat!” 

 

Negan’s booming voice made him start as he stared at the food, suspecting a trap and not willing to fall into it..

 

“Don’t make me get my men to force it down your throat” Negan was by his side, his grin more frightening than any snarl.

 

“Don’t want it” Daryl muttered, pushing the plate away, ignoring the churning of his empty stomach and the way his dry throat suddenly clenched at the sight of the ice cold drink in front of him.

 

“You should eat. You’re going to need all your strength where you’re going” 

 

Negan was leaning on the table, a knowing grin still on his face as he watched the broken, starving man fight the urge to bolt down everything on the plate.

 

“You’re gonna have to eat and drink something if you’re coming outside with us. We can’t have you swooning at the wrong time now can we?” Negan’s tone was smooth, soft and reassuring and Daryl found himself reaching for the jug, filling the glass with shaking hands.

 

The water was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted as it slipped down his parched throat and even Negan’s condescending pat on the head as he called him a good boy for obeying couldn’t spoil it. The food followed, each mouthful better than the last as he ignored the fork provided and shovelled it into his mouth with his fingers. He could only finish half the platefull, his shrunken stomach unable to take any more without cramping but it was the fullest he’d been in days. The mention of going outside the compound had awoken a tiny glimmer of hope inside him that maybe this was one last chance at escape and freedom.

 

Negan stepped away from the table and nodded to the men milling around the cars and trucks.

 

“Looks like our guest of honor is ready so let’s lock and load gentlemen” he ordered. 

 

At once the Saviours began to pile into the vehicles. Daryl flinched as he caught a glimpse of Sam swinging herself into the back of a canvas covered lorry, a rifle over her shoulder and several knives in a harness across her chest.

 

Negan slung a heavy arm over his shoulder and leant in close.

 

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am my attempts at matchmaking didn’t work. Really thought you and Sam would get on like a house on fire” he sniggered before straightening up and shoving Daryl forward.

 

“Time to go” he drawled.

 

Two men approached and bound Daryl’s hands in front of him, pulling on the long length of rope forcing him towards the last truck in the convoy.

 

“Looks like there’s no space left inside” Negan grinned as he indicated the half empty truck, several empty seats clearly available “so it looks like you’re gonna have to walk” 

 

The end of the rope was tied to the back of the truck and the heavy gates swung open as the convoy began to move off. Once the slack was taken up Daryl had no choice but to stumble along several feet behind the slow moving truck. The heavy vehicle passed through the gates and Daryl realised he would have no protection from the walkers chained in front of the fences. The sound of the engines whipped the undead into a frenzy and their hands clawed at him, desperate to get to his warm, living flesh as he was dragged through them. He kicked a severed head that was snapping at his feet away before it sank it’s teeth into him and a shoulder barge knocked another to one side. Swinging his bound hands frantically was enough to shove a third to the side but there were always more to take their place. 

 

He felt a clawed hand snag into the back of his sweatshirt, pulling him backwards. With bound hands and the forward momentum of the truck dragging him along he was unable to get free. The walkers other hand tangled in his hair as he twisted desperately to free himself. The men in the truck laughed as they watched him struggle, laughing even louder when the weight of the walker caused him to stumble and fall. The truck kept moving slowly forward dragging both Daryl and the chained walker with it. 

 

The restraints wrapped around the walker were bolted to a large concrete pillar embedded in the ground and once the slack was taken up the heavy chain began to bite into the decaying body, slicing it in half. The walkers lower body fell away, it’s torso and head still desperately clinging to Daryl’s back. As the hunter tried to regain his footing the walker pulled itself closer to his exposed neck and face. Warm, rancid breath washed over his skin as Daryl tried to shake it from him but it’s grip was relentless. He felt the wet flesh of it’s rotting face touch his cheek and braced himself for the bite but it never came. There was a wet, squelching sound and the walker went still, it’s grip on him falling away. At once Daryl rolled, throwing the now unmoving thing from him. He stumbled to his feet, glancing up to meet Sam’s eyes as she stood in the back of the truck, a knife in her hand ready to throw, another already missing from the harness. .

 

“You’re welcome” the woman gave a mocking half bow, her eyes leaving his briefly to dart to the knife embedded in the remains of the walkers forehead before she turned away to face the protesting men seated behind her.

 

“What you go and do that for?” one asked “We wanted to see him get bit”

 

“Negan wants him alive for now, you want to be the one that had to explain we let his plaything get killed before he’d finished with him?” she asked sweetly.

 

“Thought he was your plaything, not Negan’s” one of the men quipped, earning himself a cuff round the head from the irate woman.

 

While all the men’s attention was on Sam Daryl bent quickly, just managing to snag the knife from the walker’s head before he was pulled out of reach of the body. At once he twisted it hiding the handle in his baggy sleeve slipping the sharp blade between the ropes binding his wrists. As he limped along behind the convoy, his bare feet cut and bleeding, he discreetly sliced at the thick, rough rope. It wasn’t long before his hands were free but he held onto the rope, hiding his newfound freedom as he waited for the opportunity to run.

 

Eventually they turned off the main road and began to make their way down a narrow track in the forest. As the trees closed in around them Daryl saw his chance. He let go of the severed rope and darted sideways, hoping to lose himself in the thick forest. As he ran he heard the shouts of the men as they set off after him.

 

A walker lunged at him but he managed to evade it, stumbling and tripping as he fled. He hadn’t make it far before the first Saviour caught up with him, the man lunging forward and bringing him down in a bruising impact. Sam’s knife was still in his hand and he lashed out blindly. The blade slashed the man’s arm and he fell back with an angry cry of pain. As Daryl scrambled to his feet the wounded man grabbed at him once more. Daryl swung the knife again, this time slicing the Saviour’s throat and he fell forward, desperately clutching at the gaping wound in his neck. The walker Daryl had evaded caught up with them and it fell on the downed man with a snarl as it began to feed, clawed hands digging into the screaming man’s flesh.

 

Daryl scrabbled backwards, his torn and battered feet slipping in the wet leaves as he struggled to rise. The other Saviours were in sight now and he knew he’d never outrun them so he backed up against a large tree and raised the small knife defensively. 

 

The men fanned out in a semicircle, slowly advancing then suddenly all rushing at once. Daryl swung the knife frantically, managing to get in a few good hits before he was overpowered and the weapon wrenched from his grip. 

 

He cursed and struggled as they manhandled him back to the waiting trucks, his small taste of freedom making him suddenly realise how much he still wanted to live. He was hurled unceremoniously into the back of the nearest truck, landing heavily on his hands and knees, a violent kick to the ribs sending him onto his side on the dirty truck bed. Once everyone was onboard again the convoy moved off, this time at a much faster pace. The next ten minutes or so was spent in a sullen silence, the men shooting angry glances at the hunter as he glared back at them. 

 

Finally they stopped and he was pulled roughly down to the ground, an unnecessarily hard shove sending him to his knees. It took a few seconds for Daryl to realise exactly where he was as he pulled himself to his feet glancing around in horror.

 

The clearing looked different in the daylight but the remains of the two bodies were unmistakable. What was left of Glenn and Abraham still lay where they’d fallen, the ground around the bodies dark with dried blood. Walkers and animals had feasted on the corpses in the last few weeks, leaving nothing but bone and scraps of flesh among the remnants of tattered clothing. A wave of nausea swept over Daryl, the food he’d eaten suddenly feeling heavy in his stomach as he fought to keep it down. He staggered backwards, turning from the distressing sight but a large hand suddenly fisted in the back of his baggy sweatshirt and he found himself pushed towards the bodies.

 

“Thought maybe you’d like a last look at your buddies” Negan leant closer his breath warm against Daryl’s cheek “while there’s still something left to see”

 

The grip on his shirt loosened but before he could move a brutal kick to the back of his leg sent him back to his knees once more. Negan gripped the back of his neck, his fingers digging into the skin hard enough to bruise as he forced Daryl closer to the nearest body.

 

“Hell look! you can still see traces of good old red’s moustache if you look close enough” Negan chortled as he pushed Daryl’s face even closer to the mutilated body of his friend. 

 

“Looks like your old pal Rick couldn’t even be bothered to come collect the bodies, just left them here to rot. What kind of man does that I wonder?” Negan shook his head in mock sadness as he held Daryl just inches from Abraham’s almost unrecognisable face.

 

“Hey Connor” Negn yelled as he pulled Daryl back to his knees “You still see the eyeball that popped out over there or has some critter run off with it?”

 

With a sick grin Connor sauntered over to Glenn’s body and studied the ground around it intently.

 

“Nothing here Boss” he commented after a few seconds “I reckon some coon or something must have snatched it up”

 

Their laughter stopped as a small van pulled into the clearing and two men climbed out. 

 

“Hey Boss” One of them called “Sorry we’re a bit late. The boys were a bit rowdy today and I had some trouble getting them in the van”

 

At once Negan shoved Daryl away from him and headed towards newcomers, arms outstretched in greeting. 

 

“Jimmy, my man, it’s been a while” Negan greeted the bearded man with a genuine smile before his attention was drawn to the noise from the back of the small van.

 

“They sound ready for some action” he commented “How long’s it been since they’ve been fed properly?”

 

“Been a couple of weeks I would say. We’ve been giving them scraps and they brought down a dead one the other day, got in a few bites before we could get them away from it, I guess they’re ready for something a little fresher by now” The newcomers gaze fell on Daryl and his smile widened. “And I guess that’s it” he grinned.

 

Daryl watched as Negan and the man he called Jimmy spoke, not liking the way the stranger looked at him, a cruel smile spreading over his face as he looked him up and down. 

 

Eventually the man moved to the back of the van and opened the doors, climbing inside and returning a few minutes later with two large savage looking dogs straining on leases as they tried to break free from his grip. Both animals were thin, ribs clearly visible as they snarled and snapped at anyone within reach. Jimmy reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a thin leather strap and at once both animals quietened, clearly afraid of the strap. Looking closer Daryl could see the healing welts on both dogs and he felt a moment of pity for the abused creatures. 

 

“Sam! Get that pretty little ass of yours over here right now!” Negan demanded and at once the woman responded, keeping her head lowered as he spoke to her.

 

Connor stepped forward and gripped Daryl’s arm roughly, shoving him towards the waiting group. Sam peeled away from Negan and Jimmy, pulling one of the knives from her harness as she met Daryl and Connor halfway, the hunter instinctively trying to pull away as she reached out towards him much to Connors amusement.

 

“Hold still” she demanded as she used the blade to hack one of the sleeves from his tattered sweatshirt, yanking it roughly from his arm As she stepped back Negan moved in closer and grabbed a handful of her hair, forcing her head up and Daryl could see several bruises forming on her face, one eye almost swollen shut.

 

“Seems Sam here felt bad for how things went between the two of you, thought she’d help you out a bit today by giving you access to a knife so you could escape. As you can see I had to teach her a lesson” He let go of the woman, snatching the fabric from her hand with a sinister grin.

 

“I don’t like to hit women but sometimes the bitches don’t give you any choice” his smiled faded as he studied her, looking for any sign of defiance, satisfied when he saw none.

 

“Go get in the truck, you’ll be sitting this one out” he ordered coldly, smiling again as she obeyed without a word.

 

“Looks like she learnt her lesson well enough” He smirked before turning to Daryl once more.

 

“You know one of the biggest problems I have with a camp full of loyal followers is keeping them entertained. It’s not like we can sit down for movie night and there’s no internet anymore so it’s hard to find ways they can blow off a bit of steam every now and again” 

 

Negan studied the men gathered in the clearing, watching as they chatted and smoked together, one producing a hip flask taking a long swig before passing it to the man closest to him. Others stood around checking their weapons and Daryl could sense an air of excitement around him.

 

“These are my best men, the closest I have to friends now and I felt they deserved a treat, a way to let their hair down and have some fun” he grinned at Daryl again “and you’re going to help me”

 

“Aint doing nothing to help you asshole!” Daryl ground out, earning a cuff to the back of the head from Connor.

 

“Show some respect” Negan’s right hand man snarled, his bruising grip on Daryl’s arm tightening.

 

“It’s ok Connor, I like how he still thinks he has a choice” Negan laughed as he leaned closer to Daryl.

 

“Connor is going to let go of you and you are going to run” he explained quietly as he held up the ripped sleeve “In fifteen minutes I’m giving this to the dogs and then, once they have your scent, we’ll be coming for you. You’ll have a chance to escape but I can’t see it happening, those dogs are hungry and my men are bored. I was just going to kill you but I think this way is far more entertaining”

 

Connor let go of Daryl’s arm, giving him a shove towards the edge of the clearing.

 

“Run asshole” he called “clocks ticking”

 

Hesitantly the hunter took a few steps towards the trees, not believing they were just going to let him go. When no one tried to stop him he took a few more paces, picking up speed as he approached the cover of the forest. He was just feet away from the shelter of the trees when he heard Negan’s voice.

 

“Dwight!”

 

He heard the familiar twang just seconds before the pain bloomed in his left thigh and he saw the green and yellow fletching of one of his own bolts protruding from his leg.

 

“You didn’t think we’d make it easy for you did you?” Negan laughed as Dwight lowered Daryl’s stolen crossbow.

 

“Dwight here tells me how good you are at hunting and tracking so we had to disadvantage you.” His grinned widened 

 

“Thirteen minutes left now” he nodded toward the snarling dogs, straining at their leases.

 

“Better run”

Gritting his teeth against the pain, knowing it was his only chance, Daryl ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you liked it. Don't hate Rick (or me) for leaving Glenn and Abraham's bodies, there is a reason for it.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the comments and kudos so far, I love to know how much people are enjoying this story.  
> Hope you lie this chapter.

Chapter 16

 

The baying of the dogs was close now and Daryl knew it was only a matter of minutes before they were on him. He’d evaded his pursuers for what felt like hours using every skill he knew from years of hunting, tracking and just basic survival but he’d been unable to lose them. 

 

His newly injured leg was still losing blood despite the makeshift bandage he’d made from his remaining shirt sleeve and he felt weak and disorientated from blood loss. His head was pounding from exhaustion, his breathing harsh and rasping and he could barely stand, his bare feet nothing more than a tattered, bleeding mess. 

 

Pure bloody mindedness had kept him going but now he had nothing left. He caught his foot in an exposed tree root and fell heavily, feeling his ankle twist painfully beneath him. Slowly he tried to stand but his ankle wouldn’t take his weight and he crumpled to the ground once more with a muffled curse. For a few seconds he lay there, breathing hard as he braced himself to try rising again. This time he managed to get to his feet and take a few stumbling steps before his body let him down again and he found himself on the ground once more.

 

The dogs were closer now and he was sure he could hear men’s voices as the Saviours gleefully continued to hunt him like an animal. Stubbornly he clawed at the wet leaves dragging himself to the nearest tree where he used the thick trunk to regain his footing. Reaching for the lowest branch he tried to hurl himself up, hoping to use the thick foliage of the treetop as cover but once more his body let him down and his arms failed to co-operate. Finally conceding defeat he turned, resting his back against the bark, as he glanced around for anything he could use as a weapon. 

 

He shivered in the crisp, late afternoon air, his clothes still wet from the creek he’d waded through in an effort to throw the dogs off his scent. He thought it had worked and he’d taken a few moments to quench his thirst from the icy water and pull the bolt from his leg, wrapping it in the filthy sleeve, clutching the bloodied bolt like a lifeline. 

 

The bolt was long gone now, embedded in the decaying skull of a walker that had come from nowhere, knocking him over and pinning him down before he’d managed to pierce it’s rotting eye. It was as he’d pushed the body from him and tried to retrieve the only weapon he had that he’d heard the dogs again and been forced to run once more.

 

The excited barks and yips had been terrifying enough but the series of whistles and calls the Saviours used to communicate with each other had chilled him to the bone. They seemed to come from all around, surrounding him and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t lose them. All he could hope was he could stay far enough ahead of them until they tired of the game and gave up but he doubted Negan would allow that, he knew the man wanted him dead and wouldn’t rest until he’d seen him torn apart by the hungry, abused dogs.

 

Daryl scooped up a branch, holding it defensively in front of him as he decided there was no point running anymore. He tightened his grip on the branch planning to go down fighting, no intention of making things easy for those determined to kill him.

 

As he waited his mind drifted, thoughts of his life over the last few years filling it. He wondered if he was the only person whose life had actually improved when the world ended. The way he’d been going, drifting aimlessly behind Merle, lurching from one disaster to another he figured he would probably be dead by now if things hadn’t turned to shit when they did. Merle had been an out of control meth head who took delight in causing trouble, it would only have been a matter of time before he pissed off the wrong person and paid the price for it, dragging Daryl along with him. Both of them would have probably ended up with their throats cut in some back alley somewhere or maybe shot to death in some dealers warehouse as an example to others.

 

His thoughts turned to his new family, a small smile gracing his lips as he thought of lil’ asskicker, the closest he would ever get to a child of his own. The smile faded as he realised he would never get to hear her speak her first words, never get to see her grow up. He’d stupidly assumed he would always be there for the little girl, had visions of standing alongside Rick and Carl as they vetted any boy who dared to think he was good enough for their Judith, knowing that none ever would be.

 

He thought of Carl and how strong the scared little boy from the quarry had become despite everything he’d been through, from having to kill his own mother to losing an eye in the attack on Alexandria and a surge of pride ran through him. He knew Carl was a survivor, knew he would be ok.

 

Guilt tore through him again as an image of Maggie screaming for Glenn filled his mind, he knew from Dr Carson she was fine but he still wished he could be there for her, protecting her and her unborn child from any danger, looking out for them after the birth. He remembered he’d actually allowed himself to make plans for the future. He’d actually had ideas about taking a mini Glenn on hunting trips and teaching him to track. Tears pricked the back of his eyes and he blinked them away finally letting himself think of the man he considered his brother in every way but blood.

 

Rick had trusted him from the start, believing in him when all everyone else saw was a dirty, foul mouthed redneck. It was that trust that had allowed him to step up and change, to become who he was today and he had betrayed it by allowing his anger to resurface and get the better of him. His anger was why Glenn and Michonne had been captured, why they had been in the clearing that fateful night and why Glenn had died. It never occurred to Daryl that Glenn would have been there for Maggie, that nothing would have stopped him being with his pregnant, sick wife on the trip to Hilltop. 

 

Daryl didn’t blame Rick for abandoning him, in his head he deserved it. He got Glenn killed and put the woman Rick loved in danger. He’d been happy when Rick and Michonne had finally become a couple, it had been so obvious they were meant to be together even he saw it before they did. He hoped they could find a way to get out from under Negan’s control and live a long contented life together, both deserved some happiness. The only thing he couldn’t understand, or forgive, was why Rick and the others hadn’t returned for the bodies of their fallen friends. Both Glenn and Abraham had deserved better than their bodies being left to the mercies of passing walkers and wildlife, they’d deserved a decent burial and a marker as a reminder of who they were.

 

The snapping of a branch pulled his attention back and he caught a glimpse of movement to one side, a long lean shape moving swiftly through the undergrowth. The barking was close now, the dogs just seconds away and he raised the branch in front of him, ready for a final fight.

 

“Daryl!” 

 

His head snapped round at the sound of his name, the urgent whisper coming from behind him but he could see nothing.

 

“Daryl, get down” the voice was louder this time and he glanced around in confusion just as the first dog lunged from the trees, the second not far behind, both animals freezing as they spotted him.

 

For a few seconds nothing happened then as one the dogs leapt, fangs bared and ears back as they launched themselves towards him. He raised the branch, swinging it wildly and it caught the first dog on it’s side, knocking it from the air with a yelp and it hit the ground stunned. Before he could swing again the second dog was on him, it’s teeth sinking into his arm. He heard laughter and caught a glimpse of the man Negan called Jimmy as he watched his dogs attack. 

 

His laughter was cut short as a gunshot rang out and the dog was hurled back from Daryl, a second shot caught Jimmy between the eyes and he fell. More Saviours appeared as Daryl lurched to his feet, clutching his injured arm, eyes wild as he searched for whoever had helped him. 

 

Bullets pinged around him as Daryl found himself caught in a crossfire between the Saviours and his unseen allies and he dropped to the ground, curling his arms over his head in an attempt to protect himself from the flying bullets. He didn’t see the second dog pull itself up from where it had landed after his blow, didn’t see it advance on him and didn’t see it as it leapt towards his huddled figure. He did see the large orange and black blur as it leapt from the trees, it’s sleek body leaping over him as it snatched the dog from mid air, clamping it’s strong jaws on the yelping animal as it carried it off. 

 

Daryl’s arms dropped from his head as he stared in disbelief at the tiger that had just saved his life. He shook his head to clear it, convinced he was hallucinating, that his mind had finally cracked. He tried to stand, somehow forgetting about the gun battle raging around him and tried to back away from the beautiful but deadly animal. 

 

Pain flared in his arm and he looked down in shock to see blood on his left bicep, suddenly becoming aware of his surroundings again.

 

“Get Down, dammit!” 

 

An unfamiliar female voice screamed at him and he span round to see a slender woman in some kind of black body armour running towards him, her light brown hair pulled back in a tight bun, a bow in one hand, a gun in the other as she closed the gap between them.

 

“Get down!” she yelled again as he stared at her in confusion. Her arms were reaching for him when he saw the Saviour behind her raise his weapon. He opened his mouth to yell a warning but it was too late. The muzzle flared and the impact of the bullet knocked the woman forward. She crashed into Daryl and they both fell. He felt the wind knocked out of him as his head struck the ground and the woman landed on top of him, pinning him down. Dizziness swept over him and the last thing he heard before passing out was the woman’s voice.

 

“Shit, that hurt!”


End file.
